24K
by Miss Black Shadow
Summary: I need you're voice to decides what happens to this story. See chapter 18. Please review.
1. The Incident

**Discaliamer:I don't own POTO, this is just incase you didn't read it on my other phic.**

**Hey guys, Shadow here! Listen I'm currently fighting writer block on Act II, and this came to me between two in the morning and Algebra. I decided to run with it, please read and review.**

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_**The Incident**_

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"Nothing" she muttered, the sun beating down over head, "absolutely nothing!" 

Tammy poured over the contents of a small folding table. She stood a proud five foot three, but often disguised this fact with high heels. Today she wore tall three inch heel black leather boots with silver buckles on the side. Her unusually long legs were clad in dark blue denim jeans; she was cursed ever since freshman year to always go to the next size up because even though the waist fit perfectly the legs were always too short. She wore a black tank top with the words "J'adore Erik" scrawled in red across the front. Her pale arms and neck were clearly visible because of the cut of the shirt. She was paler than usual, because for the past week she had spent either in front of her computer screen or her piano. Her red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, curls valiantly seeking freedom cascaded down her neck or stuck up in odd directions. She always felt she had had passing features, her eyes were a lively mixture of green and blue (bound to change with what she was wearing). Her completion was smooth for once in a blue moon. Her mom had always boosted about her nose and eyebrows, though secretly she didn't understand why.

She straitened and glared at the table for reason even she didn't know. She was at the first garage sale that had gone up for the season. Normally she made it a point to stay away from any yard sale event of any kind; her excuse was you didn't know what purpose most of the stuff was used for before they wanted to sell it.

This one almost had held an air of promise, magic even. Evidently her magic sense was on the fritz, because not even she could find anything special about melted Tupperware and a bent egg beater. Disappointed she turned to move to the next table when something sparkling caught her eye.

It was a ring, simple yet elegant. The silver band held a large diamond surrounded by several smaller stones. It was gorgeous. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand, it was made for a slender hand and by a fine craftsman. She held it up to the light, the stones looked real enough, but how in the world did something like this end up in a garage sale.

She glanced over her shoulder, call it instinct, and then slipped it on her left hand ring finger. Surprisingly it fit. Normally she was humble, but she had to admit it looked good on her hand.

"Are you going to buy that?" a low cool voice purred. Instinctively her teeth clenched.

"Yes, now go find some other shopper to torment." she turned and faced the dark-haired girls in front of her; Chris had been her arch foe for practically as long as she could remember. If Tammy was demented, then this girl was evil incarnate.

"Oh, too bad!" Chris responded, gazing at the ring fondly, "that was already put on reserve for me!"

Tammy didn't believe a word of it, "I'll just ask Mrs. Dwrite then."

She noticed the look of disbelief in Chris' dark eyes. Laughing evilly on the inside Tammy called over the short blue haired old woman.

"I'd like to buy this ring. I'll give you fifteen dollars for it," she thought the price was reasonable for being at a garage sale. Mrs. Dwrite looked pleased with the price until, "now wait just a minute those stones are real."

Chris evidentially wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Clearly the stones are costume," Tammy returned. Knowing how to act as if she actually knew what she was talking about often worked, and she prayed it came through today. "By the way it's cut; you can clearly see the flaws. All first-class authentic diamonds have a bit of a yellow cast to them, even if they are set in silver settings. I have the feeling that the silver is of good quality but the 'diamonds' might as well be glass, so my price of fifteen dollars is actually quite fair."

She held out her hand and showed Mrs. Dwrite the ring and her money. While the little old woman looked over the trinket Tammy sent Chris a smirk. Mrs. Dwrite pronounced the same verdict as Tammy's and took the money to go help another customer who wanted to know the price of a certain painting.

With one last admiring look of the ring, Tammy sent Chris a triumphant glare. When it came to mind games she was the puppet master. She left the stunned and fuming brunet in the middle of the drive way.

Walking down the small suburb street Tammy celebrated her victory. This ring was the piece of magic she had been looking for that morning, some how deep in her bones she knew it was true. It looked like something from the phics she read so much. Hopefully it would give her some inspiration, lately she was running out.

She reached her building and entered her small studio apartment. It was modest, in a starving artist sort of way; her light green walls were nearly covered in theatre posters, announcing her performances among others. Her bed sat in the corner covered in a lime green leopard print comforter. Her TV was on the stand in the "living room", while her 88 key electric keyboard and computer sat on opposite walls.

She dimmed the lights down and popped her favorite DVD in the player. It was her 2005 copy; since her London recording was on back order she would just have to settle with listening to Gerry more, something she wasn't all against. She walked to her small closet and pulled out her favorite cape, floor length black trimmed in emerald. The DVD revved up and she got out her piano music for Broadway show. Turning the dog eared pages she finally found what she was looking for, "Music of the night". She changed the voice setting on the piano to strings, some how it just sounded better if it was in an orchestra sounding tone.

She looked at her ring, the chances on coming across this was hard to believe. She didn't honestly believe it was Christine's ring, but with her overactive imagination it might as well have been. She was in rapped in her own little world that she nearly missed the beginning cords.

She started playing, not needing to look at the music because she had read it so much. She let her fingers dance across the keys to the haunting melody. Gerry's voice washed over her and she closed her eyes, thinking of the man behind the mask. The Erik she knew was there. Smiling she kept playing from sense memory, odd how much the mind can do with a bit of talent and an object of affection.

She came to the beginning of the instrumental break and she played as the DVD began to fade away. Dang, she was going to have to replace that machine soon or get it fixed, it sounded like it was dying. She finished the song with great vibrato as the sound bounced around the room.

Wait… her apartment wasn't that big to actually have sound bounce.

Ignoring the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach she started another song, "Point of no Return". But as she placed her hands to the keys, instead of a soothing string sound a resounding pipe like resonance greeted her ears.

Her eyes flew open, at first all she saw was dark, lots and lots of dark. Then she looked down, illuminated by candlelight, instead of sitting on her small bench and the plastic keys of her keyboard under her finger tips, she was sitting at a large ornamental ivory keyed organ. The glistening golden pipes rising from behind were enough to send any phangirl squealing.

"Dear lord!" she whispered.

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**So that's the first chappie, hope you enjoyed it.I promise it will get funnier later on. Please review.**


	2. Someone there

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, but I got chocolate!**

Review replies:

Beckswashere: I'm updating! I'll try to limit the time between updates. A week tops!

Mrs. Malfoy: gee thanx, great to know someone appreciates my work!

Rose: wow, you're my first flame ever. BTW no ones forcing you to read this phic. I thought my summary was pretty clear that this was another time travel thingy.

angel of mystery: Thanx. And to answer your question she's around 20ish.

kathy.L: here's his reaction.

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**Someone there**

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She squeaked and fell of the back of the bench. Hand to her chest scrambled to her feet still staring wide eyed at the large instrument.

That's it her thread of sanity had just snapped. It was the only plausible explanation, she had finally checked out of reality for good. Though, she thought, she was thinking rather logically for being crazy.

So maybe she was dreaming, slowly backing away from the organ she thought. Of course she was dreaming, so many of her fantasies had started this way. Being in her room than suddenly being in Erik's lair was one of the multiple ways she had envisioned getting here. Though in her dreams getting here was a lot more complicated involving fairy rings.

She backed up to something solid. Under her hand, she felt polished wood. A shiver ran down her spine, secretly she had hoped the coffin part of all phics were exaggeration. Now she knew differently. She concluded that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, because last she checked you couldn't feel anything in dreams.

Realization hit like a ton of bricks. She was in his lair. SHE was in HIS lair. Surprisingly calm, but with a small smile on her lips, she exited the main room into a hallway. If she was in his house she wanted to see all of it before she ended up punjabbed. Several doors led off the main hallway, it's time to explore.

XxX

Erik swirled his glass of red wine in his gloved hand, pondering. He sat in his study dressed in his evening's finest, dark coat and white cravat immaculate, his waistcoat such a dark crimson it was almost black, black trousers and Hessian boots. His mask was fixed firmly in place, but his amber gaze was searching, his manner brooding.

His angel was to arrive soon for a lesson.

Ayesha, who had been curled comfortably in the other red velvet chair, immediately pricked up her ears, gazed fixed on the door. She gave a short meow before gracefully leaping from her perch. Erik watched as she slunk from the room. Leaving the glass on the side table he followed. Someone was here.

Quietly he strode down the hall. His gripped tightened on his Punjab lasso. He reached the Louis-Phillipe room when Ayesha slipped into the room. Leaning against the wall, he listened.

"Hello, you must be Ayesha," a distinctly feminine voice whispered. The cream colored cat meowed, and then purred. He turned to stand in the shadowed doorway, facing into the room.

She was a dark figure silhouetted against the lights. Ayesha was rubbing against her legs purring for all she was worth. The woman laughed slightly and stroked the soft fur, and in a soft tone asked, "Where's Erik?"

"I'm right here." His voice was low and dangerous. She straitened, and faced him. It was the first time he had a good view of her face. Her blue green eyes shone against the lights. Her skin was pale, slightly paler than was fashionable nowadays. Red curls framing her face, her lips curled into a smile when she saw him.

"What are you doing here Madame?" She looked confused.

"I'm no Madame…" then realized the mistake, glancing at the ring on her finger. "This isn't a marriage ring, or an engagement ring for that matter. It's just something I found."

"I repeat my question, mademoiselle," he tightened his grip on the lasso; he didn't miss the flicker of indignation and just a touch of fear in her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Frankly," she crossed her arms, hiding the text on her shirt, "I'm not quite sure how I got here."

"Surely you would remember how you came here. One just doesn't appear out of thin air."

"If I remember correctly, you're pretty good at it." She lifted a brow at him. His eyes narrowed, she had cheek for someone who had ventured to his home. "Who are you?"

She smiled, "That, is privileged information."

"So is my name, but you seemed to have come by it." He entered the room and strode to her. She lifted her chin slightly, "My name… is Tamara, but I prefer to be called Tammy."

He circled her, she didn't move. Only following him with her eyes, tracking his movements. She had great courage. He almost admired that.

"Why are you here?"

"You've become awfully repetitive haven't you," she sighed, "Besides this being my dream for quite a while? I'm not sure, last thing I remember was telling Chris off, going back to my apartment, and here I am."

Her accent was strange, not like the occasional English patron that came to the opera house. Who was this Chris?

"You're not English are you?"

"Nope," she chirped, "I'm a full blooded Yankee, well with ties to Scotland, England, and so forth."

"I've heard Americans; they don't have your accent or pattern of speech…"

"There's actually a simple reason for that, I …."

She was interrupted by a sharp knock on the front door. They both tensed. She glanced at him.

"Go answer the door. I'll disappear for now." With that she swept out of the room and down the hall. Not before he caught a glimpse of her shirt, "J'adore Erik". He raised an unseen brow.

XxX

A string of curses ran through Tammy's mind. She was currently sitting at the dark cherry wood table in Erik's kitchen. Only allowed to listen to his music. Not allowed near his precious angel. Not allowed to warp her fingers around Christine's scrawny little neck. Her expression darkened more. Sure she was the one to volunteer to disappear only because Erik would have asked her to any way.

In nearly every phic she had ever read, except Misty's of course, the phan Erik meets with comes after Christine's left him high and dry. Here she was stuck in the middle of it.

The song started a new in the other room. She cursed audibly this time. If she had wanted to just listen to him play she might as well have stayed in her own century.

Realizing what she just thought she cursed again, this was quickly becoming a habit. She didn't want to go back to her time. She had had only one conversation with him, lord knows she blew that one.

She stood and paced the small room, she never paced but that's how aggravating this was. She needed some thing to do, something to keep her hands busy. Spying ingredients she grabbed a bowl and mixing spoon. If she was banished to the kitchen she might as well make something to eat.


	3. Burnt Brownies

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, blah blah blah and all that.**

**Okay, I have one question, and if someone would tell me the answer I'll be forever grateful. What is a Mary Sue? I've heard (or actually read) that phrase used before, and I wish to know so I can keep from becoming one.**

Review replies: 

Mrs. Malfoy: Here's the new update, Hope you enjoy!

Nicole: I'm glad I can entertain you.

Erik's Wild Nightingale: wow, second flame. As far as the only sane phan girl, I'm not speaking for all of us, but I know that my sanity test results come back next week. I'll let you know my score.

Kathy.L: I was glad when writing how calm she turned out to be too. I know I would probably be babbling and trying not to glomp him.

Nixieharpist: Will there be Christine bashing? Let me think…..um ….Heck YES!

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**_Burnt Brownies

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_**

She was singing beautifully. She would be the star of the opera very soon.

He continued playing as Christine's voice rose and fell with feeling. Her timid brown eyes followed the music, accidentally hitting a sour note. He cringed, "No, you must remember the sharps in this song. Try again."

He played the intro, the graceful chords flowing from the piano. She opened her mouth to sing when an almighty crash came from down the hall.

Both teacher and student paused. Christine's doe like eyes widened in surprise. He gritted his teeth.

"What was that?" her voice trembled.

"A nuisance nothing more," he muttered. "Let's end our lesson for today."

She bobbed her brunette head in agreement, she wasn't sure what caused such a crash but she wasn't going to stay to find out. Like the rest of his house, she got the creeps when ever she came down here. He led her to the front door, another smaller crash accompanied by a string of creative curses rang out from the hall way.

Quickly he showed Christine out the door and shut it.

She remained there for a minute blinking at the dark door. What was going on with her angel?

XxX

He quickly strode down the hall way, his step quick and agitated. His guest had over stayed her welcome.

"Thanks a lot Benjamin Franklin. You invented the stupid oven, stove, thing, but you forgot the manual."

He strode in, prepared to send her on her way, when he had to stop and stare. Ayesha was curled up on the counter watching Tammy.

The nuisance herself was nearly covered in flour. Smudges of what looked like ash adorned her face. She glared at the offending piece of equipment, a look of deep loathing in her eyes. In her gloved hands was a pan with something a deep black and smoking in it. With a deep sigh she placed the hot pan in the sink, "So much for brownies."

"What on earth are you doing?" she turned when she heard him, she smiled. Dusting off her hands she took a seat at the table. "I got hungry, so I hoped to make something to help rectify this unfortunate situation."

"So you helped yourself to my pantry?" his voice was low.

"Would you have preferred I interrupt you and your angel?"

"You accomplished that very well, whether that was your intention or not."

Her face went impassive, but he could detect a glint in her eyes. "Well, than I apologize for that. I wish I could do something to help."

"You could help by leaving," his blunt tone surprised even him. She just met his gaze. A strained silence grew between him.

"I can't."

"Surely you can…"

"No. I can't," she leaned back in the chair. "If you haven't noticed whenever we've talked it been in English. I made the misfortunate decision when I was younger not to finish my education in the French language, so I would be at a great disadvantage language wise. Besides you, I don't know anyone here in Paris, or France for that matter, so any rouge could steel me away and no one would be the wiser. And besides."

Her eyes adopted an unholy glint, "The French would never survive me running amok."

She finished her little speech and leveled his amber gaze with her aqua one. He knew every word was true.

"That seemed oddly rehearsed."

She grinned, "I had a lot of time to think of what to say. You were with your angel for nearly an hour."

"So what you're saying is…"

"Unless you want my fate on your conscience," she rose, and swept an elegant bow, "you're stuck with me!"

His eyes narrowed on there own accord, "What?"

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**Hoped you enjoyed that,I know it's short but I'll come up with some long chapters later. Please review!**

**Erik: You mean I'm stuck with you now!**

**Me: You Bet!**

**Erik: Wonderful.**

**ME: careful! I'm trained to recognize sarcasm when I hear it.**

**Erik: glares**


	4. Corsets and Musings

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, WHAT? You didn't know? Well why else would I be writing on Sorry I had a bad day.**

Review replies:

IflyNAVY: Keep it coming? Right-o!

Remus'Fiance: I will try to not make Christine too ditzy. I never really saw her as ditzy; naive, confused, (personally I think she's a little crazy, still believing in fairy tale when she's old enough to get married?) and not deserving of Erik's devotion sure, but not ditzy.  Don't worry no ditzy.

SuniMoon: glad you like. Even though ALW version was the first intro I had to the phantom universe, I'm trying to incorporate as much Leroux as I can.

Mrs. Malfoy: thank you so much for the definition. (Hands over large patch of fresh baked brownies, don't worry not burned). Now I know what to avoid. Thank you so much for your compliments, I think I read a Mary Sueish story once, your right it almost made me want to puke. No creativity at all. Any-hozits, here's the new update hope you enjoy.

Kathy.L: he maybe stuck with her, but can he control her? Hmmm… maybe? Maybe not?

obsessor-of-inuyasha: you can come out of your dark corner now. You're really enthusiastic aren't you? Welcome to my world, it's insane and fun. Here's the new chapter.

Miss Christine Daae: 3mily, do you mind if I call you 3mily, it's just so hard for me to say something nice to she-who-must-not-be-named, real or otherwise, not you personally. Glad to have you as a reader. Hope you enjoy.

JediKnightMaraJade: I agree, frankly I think her dad messed with her mind. Hope you like the new chappie.

Corsets and Musings

Her eyes fluttered open, untangling herself from the red blankets she sat up. Her eyesight quickly adjusting to the candle light she saw Ayesha curled at her feet, fast asleep. She grinned, so it wasn't a dream after all.

Dark furniture, some she swore she saw in a museum once, both large and beautiful was spaced around the room. Some she thought was made from cherry wood, or maybe walnut, Erik didn't seem a cherry kind of guy.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, glancing at the side table the ring winked up at her. She stood and wrapped a dark dressing robe around her white silk night gown.

Last night when she had given him the ultimatum, she believed she was inches from him throwing her out the door, and consequently in the lake. In fact she didn't harbor any shadow of a doubt when it came to that fact. Whatever convinced him to let her stay, she couldn't say. She was just thankful; and she prayed that, whatever it was, for it to stay for a while.

She crossed to the large wardrobe, adjacent to the bed.

Seeing her lack of preparation for her trip, He had given her leave to wear whatever she could find until they were able to find some of her own. She had already planned, in her mind, several trips to the costume room. Most of the clothes were meant for Christine who was a few inches taller, and plenty of inches thinner.

Reasonably so, she had steered clear of the white wedding dress. Erik probably would have strangled her if she thought about looking at it, let alone touching it. Instead she selected a dark green morning dress, and the appropriate under clothes. She had to give him credit, he really had good taste.

Stepping behind the dressing screen, she dawned a white sleeveless chemise that fell to just beyond her knees. That done she guessed, having watched her grandmother make period costumes, and pulled out the long whale bone corset. She frowned. Dang, she wasn't counting on wearing one of these in her life time. Since asking Erik to help was out of the question, she had some decency; this was going to take some creativity to put on.

Leaning around the screen she caught a glimpse at the bed. She grinned, an idea formed in her head.

XxX

He had no idea what had come over him. He leaned back in his chair; he had abandoned his book on the side table giving his thoughts free reign.

Normally no one, besides Christine, would be allowed in his home. Nadir didn't even come here, Erik normally found him. What was he doing allowing a young female stay in his home?

Did she not know who he was? The fact that she hadn't flinched when he had questioned her was a point in her favor. She acted as if she knew about this place, she even knew about Christine's lessons.

Yet when it came to every day things, like cooking, she was lacking. The pile of what was supposed to be a treat testified to that fact.

His supposed it was his curiosity that let her stay. She had made it down to his lair without injury or getting caught, that couldn't be accomplished unless she was very cunning, or she had an odd form of luck. Either way he was determined to find out just how she made her way down here and why she was here.

XxX

Cursing every Snickers tm, Twinkies tm, or Milky Way tm bar she ever had, Tammy laced up the front of the confounded piece of clothing. That just left tightening it. With clumsy fingers she tied the back two stings to one of the bedposts. Tugging in the strings slightly she made sure they were secure. She made sure the corset was in place and took a deep breath.

She took a starting position from her short lived hurtle career (Never try running under hurdles, they hurt!). Here goes nothing, literally.

She lunged forward and gasped. The bed must have either been too heavy or bolted to the floor, she achieved the desired effect. The two halves of the corset came together quickly, but two tightly. She slumped against the bed.

"Air... NEED oxygen!" her eyes widened. She fumbled with the ties on the bed, creating a bigger knot. Letting a few unladylike words drop from her lips she tore at the strings. Never again would she try tying this thing on her own.

Finally unraveling the strings she let them slack until she could breathe again. Taking in some well deserved breaths she tied a firm knot. Never again.

Standing on wobbling legs, the lack of oxygen obviously affecting her already poor balance, she looked in the full length mirror. Her waist wasn't tiny like she had seen in portraits, but it wasn't half bad. She smiled; her grandma would absolutely love these clothes.

She grabbed only two petticoats, more than that seemed over kill. Pulling them over her head she tied them around her waist.

She gently lifted the green dress from the chair, the green silk was soft and smooth in her hands. The full skirt reached the floor, the sleeves were small and poofy, and she made mental notes too do something about the lace later.

She slipped in on and struggled with the buttons, but eventually got them all done up. She dismissed the white gloves the came with the dress, but slipped on the green slippers.

When that was done she stepped back and admired her reflection. She loved period costumes when she had the chance to wear them; it almost seemed sometimes that she was born in the wrong time period.

She laughed, irony was a fickle thing. Quickly running a brush through her red curls, she left the room.

XxX

He was deep into his musing, when she came into the room. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she looked uncomfortable, but the clam smile that seemed to normally adorn her features was in place. She paused in the doorway, almost unsure of what to do or say.

So there were chinks in her façade.

His amber gaze took met her aqua one and motioned her to sit. Her chin inclined slightly, but she sat in the chair across from him. She definitely had courage, or she was very foolish.

She glanced at him, "Thank you."

"You didn't give me much choice," his replied, "besides I have a few questions."

She knitted her brows, "Please I have nothing to hide, ask away?"

"How did you get here?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"Fine. You want the abbreviated version or the long complicated version."

He paused, "Long version will suffice."

She sighed, "I probably should get this out of the way. I'm not really all that normal."

He raised an unseen brow. "And how is that?"

"I'm not from this time."

"What?"

"I'm technically from 130 years in the future, give or take a few years."

"Impossible."

"It's true." Her eyes flashed, "Do you want proof?"

He nodded; she glared and stomped out of the room. She was only gone a few seconds, enough time for him to come to the conclusion that she was mad. She stalked back into the room and tossed a small piece of plastic at him. He caught it easily and examined it.

"That's my diver's license; if you check the date you'll see I'm right."

He read the small print "renew February 2006". "The picture doesn't look like you."

"I had a bad head cold that day and it seems that, as a rule, these pictures have to be bad."

He had to give her credit, this was indeed proof.

"Now," she sunk in to the chair, "Would you like the full story?"

**Hope you enjoyed that, more chaos to come. Please review!**


	5. Bagpipes and Boredom

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, so on and so forth.**

**A/N: I would have updated sooner, but yesterday it rained really hard and I just had to go skipping around in it. Today I had to go to a wedding and danced for 3 hours in high heels. So I'm writing this while my feet are soaking in hot water. Hope you enjoy!**

Review replies:

SuniMoon: lol, great theory. Here's a new chapter!

3mily: thanx. I'm updateing!

Mrs. Gerard Butler: first off, how in the world you get the honor of being MRS. Gerard butler? lol glad you like it.

lafemme540: knock him off his moody pedestal, I like that phrase I'm going to have to use it. Please keep reading it will get much funnier and who knows I may later on give it a …PLOT!

IflyNAVY: really glad you like it. I plan on continuing, at least I hope. lol yeah I'll continue.

Remus'Fiance: she'll explain in this chapter. I'm still not sure why all drivers liscenes look so bad, I swear you could go in looking like a super model and they'd make the picture look like a mug shot. lol

blackmagik13: keep writing? Hmmm… ok!

mrs. Malfoy: your welcome for the brownies. The definition has help a lot!

JediKnightMaraJade: yep! That bit of inspiration came when I was trying on a costume for a play I'm in.

Des Iries: I love misty's story too. I'd just wish she'd update more. A mary-sue as I've been told is a character that is made to be prettier than Christine, along with a better singer and dancer than her too. In a word a mary-sue is made to be perfect, and take Erik's attention away from Christine, which is a lot harder than it sounds. lol, you'll have to tell me when you post it I love reading new phics.

obsessor-of-inuyasha: I hope you have your homework done, because I have a new chapter for you. I'm in chemistry this year so I get to play with fire, it's fun.

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_**Bagpipes and Boredom**_

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She folded her hands in front of her. Her eyes took on a faraway look, "I guess it all started with the ring."

"I assume your referring to the ring you were wearing yesterday," he adopted a cool tone, but held her "driver's license" tightly in his hand.

"Yeah, I found it at a garage sale." He sent her a look that she caught, "it's sort of like I one merchant market on someone's lawn."

"When I first picked it up it felt… oh I don't know. It felt almost magical, beautiful yet it had a secret. I know you probably think me mad for saying some thing like that, but it was true. I had to fight Chris for it."

"Who is this Chris?"

She glanced at her hands, and then seemed to decide something. "Her full name is Christine."

"Christine Daae?"

"No!" she snapped her eyes flashed silver in the candle light, he was almost taken back at her sudden change. "Sorry, but I don't wish to talk about her until another time."

She paused and looked away; he could almost see her rebuilding the wall of her façade (surely that's what it was). Her clam eyes finally met his. "I'm truly sorry, that was not necessary."

He made a mental note to explore her dislike of Christine later. "Think nothing of it. Please continue."

"Well, after purchasing the ring, I made tracks to get back to my apartment. I believe it was around 2 o'clock when I made it home, but that's not the point. Grabbed my cloak and started to listen to my favorite music while I played along on the piano…"

"What music was it?" he wasn't sure what had prompted that question, but he was curious to know what she considered music.

"A song called Music of the Night, absolutely beautiful; I'll have to play it for you later. After that, I had my eyes closed, but I guess the room went dark and the DVD player died away. That was when the space time continuum decided to have a little fun. I opened my eyes and I was at your organ. Needless to say I was a little shocked."

His suspicion and curiosity were intrigued. "You knew Ayesha's name when you arrived, why is that?"

She seemed to pale a little more, if that was possible. (Quick peek into her thoughts) she wasn't sure if he was ready to know of his fame in the future. Quickly she decided to lie, "It was the name of my cat in the future, and she also was a Siamese. When I arrived I wasn't sure how much of the future was pulled back with me."

She wasn't telling the truth, he was sure of it. Her eyes had clouded, during the rest of their tête-à-tête they has been crystal clear. He wasn't going to push the issue now, but reassured he would find out how she knew.

An uncomfortable silence grew between them. Finally she spoke.

"I'm not sure why I'm here. Whether fate has decided to have fun with me, or it is truly is something was supposed to happen. Either way I know I want to stay here," she paused, and then added. "With you."

What? She wanted to stay here with him. He was the devils child, and angel of darkness no one willingly stayed in his presence. Yet here was this woman who wanted, and looked almost desireing, to stay with him. He met her pleading gaze, she didn't flinch.

"Fine." He stood and turned to leave the room, he didn't miss the smile that graced her lips.

XxX

The next few days passed in relative quiet. Something that wouldn't last, at least not if Tammy had anything to say about it. After the brownie incident she hadn't been allowed near the oven, but she was slowly trying to earn Erik's trust with flammable objects. So far that proved to be a slow process.

At the moment she was curled in a chair in the Louis-Philippe room writing on a piece of parchment with a pencil she had managed to filch from his study.

_Costume checklist:_

_2 dresses preferably green, red, or black_

_Several blouses_

_Skirts, any color except pink or yellow_

_Another corset_

_Chemises _

_Pants, once again preferably black have to be small in waist but any length will do_

_Cloak black or dark blue for haunting purposes, unless able to filch one from Erik, (prospects are grim) _

_**Haunting costume, (reminder think of name!)**_

_Prop list:_

_Sword, reminder hide this_

_Rope_

_Pink and green dye_

_Scissors_

_Fan_

_Feathers_

_Glue _

_Plaster _

_Any thing to be associated with haunting **(THINK OF NAME!)**_

_Any thing else that tickles your fancy (things to torture R and CD will do)_

She checked the list again. She always was more organized when she wrote stuff down, call it a weakness. This being her first trip to the upper levels of the opera house she didn't want to forget anything.

She was wearing her 21st century clothing. Being that she was going above she didn't want to be easily caught, and full range of motion was a good thing. She figured she would learn to hide while wearing a corset later, at this point in time she was still trying to figure out how to get into one without tying herself to the bed like a rag doll. So far she didn't have much luck in that; she only had succeeded in only making herself pass out the other day. Maybe she had to reconsider asking Erik.

Shrugging, and tucking the list in her pocket, she slipped out of her room and down the hall. She was easily becoming accustomed to his home. Though becoming accustomed wasn't a problem for her, she just wished she had thought to slip her picture phone into her pocket before traveling through the cosmos. It was probably was for the better, who knows what sort of tears in the time space continuum she had made when she had shown Erik her license?

The commanding resonance of the organ came from down the hall. She froze and let the music wash over her. He was good, better than good (but you all knew that). Her weakness had always been music, even before she had discovered the phantom. Musicals were her specialty, but she would always stop for Bach, Mozart, Wagner, and Beethoven. The list went on to include jazzy numbers, and a bit of rock. The one thing she absolutely refused to listen to was rap, as she often said can't spell crap.

She shook her head to clear her mind of the haunting music, something that proved impossible. She had thing to do, things to "borrow", and she had to focus if she was going to accomplish this. Silently she slunk (that's a funny word slunk… slunk slunk slunk) out the door.

She walked down to the shore of the lake. Its waters as clam and black as night. As described in the book its waters gave of an eerie blue glow. She felt a shiver of excitement skate down her spine. She walked to the dock and untied the boat; she just hoped to get across the lake without waking the siren. She glided across the icy waters with ease, though it had been a while since she had rowed a boat. She knew the sirens song wouldn't affect her, being a woman had its advantages, but she had read Sinbad too many times to underestimate what one would do.

She kept rowing hoping that she would make it when she bumped against the other shore. Puzzled she tied the boat to its ring, wasn't the siren supposed to attack all who traveled on the lake besides Erik?

Shrugging she headed for what she hoped was the mirror entrance. She would have to explore all other possibilities of entry to the opera later after she had her basic supplies. One last glance at the house on the lake she slipped off into the shadows.

XxX

He wasn't sure what to make of her story. It was far fetched yet incredible, if it was true. At first he thought she was mad, but upon examination of her License her found sufficient evidence for her claims.

She allowed him to keep her license, muttering something about the next time she got one she would bribe the photographer. He had chosen to ignore that comment.

He had been composing all afternoon. He had been terribly distracted with her story so he had retired to the study. He had tried reading, but even that held no distraction for him. Added to that fact that she had been so quiet, no noise came from her room. He gave his thoughts free reign.

If she truly was from the future, did she know what would become of the opera house? What marvels did the future posses? Where was this "Portland, Oregon" that was on her license? What was the music like? Was opera still performed?

The questions were endless, infinite almost. She held the answers but he didn't know if he could ask. He could always demand answers from her, but he almost felt that she would put up a fight. She wasn't like most women he had seen in his lifetime.

His thoughts were interrupted with a resounding bang on the front door. "Erik open the door! These are heavy!"

He started; he could have sworn she was in the Louis Philippe room. Quickly he crossed the small house and opened the door.

"Thank god!" a pile of bundles with legs called. "I thought my arms were going to fall off!"

He side stepped as she entered the house, making a bee line for her room. Spying a piece of parchment that she had dropped, he snatched it and followed her. He entered the room as she dumped the pile onto the bed.

"Where have you been?" he inquired.

"Oh. Here and there," she shifted some of the bundles. "Mainly the costume room, but I made a few other stops."

"Did any one see you?" he opened and started to read her list.

"Not that I know of," she started opening some of the bundles and hanging the articles of clothing in the wardrobe. She scribbled out most of the list making it very hard to read but he made out a few of the items.

"What do you intend to do with this dye?" he sat in the reading chair.

"Preferably something to Carlotta." She grinned, but he didn't seem to have heard her. He read the line, _(things to torture R and CD will do)._ He frowned.

"CD wouldn't happen to be Christine Daae, would it?" his voice had grown low and threatening. She glanced at him and met angry amber eyes. This didn't bode well at all, "Not necessarily."

"You will not harm her." He stood and loomed over her. She didn't bat an eyelash, it frustrated him. He normally could intimidate any one he wanted to. "I wouldn't dream of it."(YES I WOULD! AND OFTEN TOO!)

"If you go near her I will find out of it, and you will no longer be in my good graces."

She turned and faced him, "is that a threat?"

Against his common sense he answered, "yes, and if you can't abide by this you will stay here, or leave."

Her eyes silvered the same glimmer he had seen the first night in his kitchen came back. "I believe that is an order as well."

He had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach; he had no time to prepare for what came next.

"I don't take well to orders," her voice had dropped but was still calm, "I'm not some dog to be ordered around. Leave now!"

He was tempted to stay and argue, but she seemed in a fighting mood. If this was just her first stage in anger, the calm before the storm, then he wasn't sure if he wanted to see her mad.

Reluctantly he left the room and heard the door slam after him. He gritted his teeth, what had he gotten him self into.

XxX

She fumed, and tried to think. She had changed in to her night gown and dressing robe. Currently she was pacing the perimeter of her room, she never paced, but that's how agitated she was.

How dare he try and order her about. She hadn't taken orders in years. Even though he was the infamous phantom of the opera, she wasn't going to let him think he could control her.

She glanced at the remaining bundled on her bed. She slowed and stopped, could she?

She crossed to the bed and opened various bundles till she found what she wanted. She just thanked whoever had the sense to put on the Scottish play. She grinned; it's time she showed her highland roots.

XxX

**5:30 am**

It was peaceful, quiet, and early hours of the morning. Silence stretched across the still lake like a blanket. The air was still.

Even Erik had retired to his coffin; his inspiration was spent for the night. Ayesha was curled in a corner, purring softly to her self. There wasn't even any noise coming from Tammy's room.

All was quiet…. Almost too quiet.

A loud screeching sound ripped through the still air.

Erik jumped with a curse, landing awkwardly in his coffin. It almost sounded like a cat being drowned, seeing Ayesha in her basket he discarded that prospect. He snatched his mask and put it firmly into place. He followed the noise to her door.

She was going to be the death of him. Without bothering to knock he flung the door open.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed playing what looked like bagpipes. She was wearing a white blouse, black vest, plaid kilt with matching sash, white stockings, and black dance slippers.

"What on earth has possessed you to…?"

"Good morning Erik," she stop the racket of music and calmly set it aside. "Thanks for knocking. Didn't realize you'd be up this early?"

She moved to the small vanity and started to brush her red locks.

"Why in the world did you decide to play the racket this early in the morning?"

"Racket?" she frowned, "that was classical Scottish piping, thank you. As for why…"

She paused for effect, "because I'm bored, I have to have something to do while I _stay here._"

She turned to face him, a small mischievous smile on her lips.

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**I hope you enjoyed that, I was listening to some of my favorite Celtic music when I thought of this. Please review! **


	6. Accident prone

**Disclaimer: yadda, yadda, yak, yak, blah, blah, so on so forth, ect.**

**A/N: this chapter was written after I had had a major sugar rush, and by sugar rush I mean sit down the pound bag of pure sugar and a spoon kind of rush. Erik didn't bother to stop me. Needless to say I have a major headache, and I wouldn't be surprised if some movie references are made it into this chapter. Don't hurt me! I'm trying to keep it a Leroux as possible, but I have always pictured Mme Giry in more of a teacher's role, not just a gullible box keeper. Need I ask who would resist the chance to drop a set piece on that ridiculous Carlotta (although I thought Minnie Driver was hilarious with her poodles). **

**I'm not going to ramble any more, but I hope you enjoy!**

Review replies:

SuniMoon: 1&2: it'll happen eventually. I'm just trying to find a gentle way to break it too him. 3. This is what I was afraid would happen. Try sending him to some musicals and have him listen to jazz. If all else fails try finding the nearest piano/organ. 4. bagpipes rule!

Haley Macrae: thanks so much for my plushie. I hope he's indestructible because I have a tendancy to cuddle hard.

IflyNAVY: thank you. And I plan on keeping them coming.

mrs. malfoy: I try. I've always preferred the dark brooding, intelligent Erik to the insane lunatic.

xxooEriklovesChristinexxoo: thank you. Lucky, my grandma likes to listen to the Irish fiddle more than the bagpipes.

Des Iries: I read your story. It's really good; I can't wait to read more. As far as the bagpipes go, I know why a piper was so highly revered in the medieval ages.

Kathy.L: slunk just hit me as a funny word. Almost as good as antidisestablishmentarianism (say that 5 times fast). Hope you like the new chapter.

Mrs. Gerard Butler: way's to torture the scrawny doe-eyed life wrecker, hmmm… I smell a parody comeing on. Feel free to give suggestions, so far I have honey and feathers, drenching, ect. The list so far is longer than my arm.

lafemme540: right now if you could tell me were there stories going I'd appreciate it. lol, I'm not sure but I know I'm going to have a blast writing it if Erik will leave me to sleep at night. (He's gotten into the habit of waking me at 2am)

* * *

**_Accident Prone_**

* * *

The large stage was buzzing with rehearsals. Singers were scattered here and there in unfinished costumes practicing their lines. Mme Giry was critiquing her students, most of which were younger than ten and included her own little Meg. M. Gabriel was trying to organize the chatty chorus, among which Christine was staring off into space (not necessarily a new pastime), while talking with some other sopranos. Carlotta was throwing one of her usual fits, this time it was about her hat and the incompetent costumers who were trying to put her in the "wrong" shade of red. The maestro was warming up his orchestra, while a confused percussionist was scrambling for his cymbals. MM. Debienne and Poligny were showing MM. Moncharmin and Richard around the stage, in particular the older dancing girls. In a word, or two, the stage was in its normal state of organized chaos. High above the catwalks and side stages, where the stagehand and scene shifters were drinking whiskey and exchanging rude jokes, a dark shadow looked on.

Dressed in black trousers, a lacey blouse with quarter length sleeves (dyed black of course), elbow length black opera gloves, and her ever faithful boots and cloak; she was crouched in a panther like position on the dark wood rafters. Her aqua eyes were cold and calculating, currently zoned in on a certain bug-eyed, brown curled little chit. A dark frown crossed her pale features.

The only reason Erik had let her free to terrorize the cast, and even give her a crash course in "How-to-be-a-shadow 101", was if she promised not to harm Ms. Gullible down there. She smiled slightly; of course he never specified whether not to harm her physically or emotionally.

Twisting words to her own advantage was her specialty. When she was fifteen, she used to drive her sister insane turning of her music when ordered to. Only to turn it back on a few moments later.

She didn't even see why he liked Christine. She was bug-eyed, had volumes of hair that couldn't be real, flatter than a sail, and was scrawny with no curves to speak of. In truth, she thought Christine looked like a poodle more than any thing.

"I canah take thess anah MORE!"

Speaking of poodles…

She turned and silently made her way through the rafters. Erik had said to meet him by the scrim operator's station. He had mentioned something about breaking in the new managers, she hadn't paid much attention to the last part of the conversation seeing as she had some mischief to do and divas to torture.

She checked to see if the coast was clear, all the shifters had gone on an alcohol break. Dropping to the wooden walkway her cloak billowed out behind her almost like wings. She straitened and watched the tantrum going on below, Moncharmin and Richard were trying to calm the diva down but it didn't seem to be working. Silently, Tammy was trying to send telepathic thoughts to the prima Donna egging her on, kicking at the rope under her feet.

Sure enough a dark and brooding presence materialized by her side.

"You have the tendency to show up right at the beginning of the chaos," she murmured.

"Beginning?" he asked. She smiled, and turned to him (unknown to both of them she just accidentally wrapped a rope around her foot).

"You ready to scare the new managers into an easy payday?" she could tell that the look he was sending her, though obscured by the mask, was not one of amusement. She rolled her eyes "alright, let's go."

He swept down the platform easily; she however was stopped by a tugging on her foot. Puzzled she tugged at the rope on her foot, she didn't notice the scenery above her sway a little. Miffed she gave on final tug on the rope. It gave, allowing her to untangle her foot, then sharply snapped forward, snaking out of her grasp.

That's when she saw it. The large scrim was falling. On a direct course for Carlotta.

Panicked she began trying to grab the rope, but her satin gloves couldn't grip the rope. She wanted to torture the diva not kill her. She gritted her teeth and tried in vain to stop it's inevitable fall. Then as if everything went in to slow motion, she watched at the large screen as it fell on a crash course on top of the diva.

She closed her eyes as the shriek filled the opera house and pandemonium broke loose. She felt rather than saw Erik's furious amber glare. Of all the oops moments in her life, this one had to take the cake.

People were quickly trying to get a glimpse at the idiot who dropped the scrim. Thankfully Erik had more sense than her at the moment. Grabbing her by the upper arm he dragged her into the shadows and into one of his little unseen nooks, allowing them to watch but not be seen.

Given the circumstances this forced them pretty close together. She knew he was angry with her, but she just wished she had a bucket and mop handy so she could melt. He hadn't touched her since she had arrived in this time, not even a handshake. Now, even though he was still holding her upper arm in a rather gruff manner she went into total tilt mode. (Come on know you would too!)

Vaguely, in the unclouded parts of her mind, she realized he was trying to talk to her in hurried whispers. "Reckless stunt. What were you thinking?…"

Her red hot anger replaced that gooey, warm, fuzzy feeling she got when near him. She struggled to keep her voice below a whisper, "Hey! That was an accident!"

"I think not!"

"sure…" sarcasm dripped from her words. "I planned to purposely wrap a rope around my foot and send it crashing on the person you and I both loath. Listen here, I have worse thing planned for her than a simple crushing! I'm much smarter than that. "

Her eyes flashed with indignation. She didn't want to give him the advantage so she kept talking. "At least I didn't hit your precious Christine!" (unfortunately)

Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, she unintentionally hit it on the stone wall. Stifling a cry of pain she stayed in the shadows, but turned to face away from him. Fuming she didn't hear his remark.

"pardon?"

"I take it these are natural occurrences?"

"If you're implying I'm accident prone, then yes." she muttered darkly. It wasn't a new thing to be called a klutz, but she had kind of hoped the time jump had helped her jinx complex. That, obviously, was too much to hope for.

The action onstage caught her attention, and his. She hadn't squished the life out of Carlotta, but she was now wishing she had.

"I CANAH STAND FOR THEES! Unless you stop thees tings from 'appening I'm leaving, bring me my doggy." she huffed about the stage, turning red from yelling.

Two costumers, one rather pudgy and the other a scrawny little thing, looked at each other nervously. The smaller one piped up, "we don't think you'll be wanting your dog right now."

This seemed to put Carlotta over the edge. "Bring 'em to me NOW!"

The pudgy costumer totted off to get the dog.

"what did you do?" came a dark voice from behind her. She grinned coyly, "Watch and learn."

The costumer returned with what looked like a bundle of bright pink cotton candy.

"My Baby!" Carlotta cried, and with surprising speed for having that ridiculous "hat" on her head, she collected the now whimpering ball of fur. "'ho did thees?"

"read the tag." someone from the cast called. Mme Giry was the one to seize the small piece of parchment. After calling for quiet several times she read the note.

Dear managers, cast, and crew,

It has come to my attention that you will not wish to follow my masters explicit instructions. I give you fair warning; though his anger is great he is far more patient than I. Be warned for I will do great, yet terrible things.

I wish not to have to contact you this way in the future.

Sincerely,

The Siren

Immediately on completion of the reading murmurs and whispers filled the stage. The ghost now had an accomplice.

She grinned, this was only the beginning. Stealing her way out of the hiding spot she found one of Erik's passage ways.

"You dyed her dog pink?"

"actually, in all honesty, I was tie-dyeing one of her dresses and the stupid thing jumped into the basin of dye. I don't condone cruelty to animals, and pink is just wrong."

"Why dare I ask did you choose 'the siren'?"

In truth, she had taken on the name because of the apparent absence of the siren of the lake. It thrilled her to no end to take on such a fun role of the book. Still not sure if he was prepared for his fame, she answered in the most general terms she could. "You aren't the only one allowed to have fun."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**

**Erik: have you learned your lesson?**

**Yeah sugar is sweet but temporary. Always go for the serious caffeine**

**Erik: sigh; ask a stupid question get a stupid answer…**

**HEY!**


	7. Peanut Butter cups and Stranger things

**Disclaimer: I don't own POTO…. But he's there inside my mind! (Yes I know that was really cheesey).**

**A/N: Hey Guys! I know it took me a long time to write this chapter, please don't throw shoes at me! I had some things to deal with in the real world, like Halloween and rehearsals for three plays. Get this I'm in three plays at once! Why do I do things like this to myself?**

**Erik: Because you love the theatre?**

**True! Any hoz, hope you enjoy, and I promise not to be so long in between chapters.**

**Review replies:**

**Galasriniel**: YAY! You're one of my favorite authoress people! Thank you so much for reviewing. I say dye the fop's hair! He'd have a more hysterical reaction! Update your story Soon!

**Myli: **thank you. Welcome to my madness.

**PersonageoftheUnderverse**: I agree that pink is an evil color. I imagine hell to be pink and have Barney in it. Shudder. Sorry this took so long to post.

**Phantoms' Lobo**: Hey Berg! Thanks for the tip, I'm working with an outdated word processing program but I thank you for bearing with me. I look forward to your reviews.

**mrs. malfoy**: I hope you like this chappie, I'm hoping for more chaos with a hint of a plotline later on.

**SuniMoon**: Sugar highs are the most entertaining things. I would be honored to look at you phics. As far as shaving the pansies head I'll have to wait and see how it fits in the fic. In other words I sooo want to use it but I have to figure out how to write it without laughing my butt off. Expect a review from me soon!

**Haley Macrae**: (takes caffeine and adds it to secret stash) Sure. I grabbed the name "the siren" from the book. I also have some other names you might want to tryout like "stage harpy" or "shadow's nymph". Hope you enjoy the chappie!

**Lovesforgotten**: thank you. I think nearly every phan would like to give Christine a piece of their mind. I'm struggling with writer's block, so it may take a while.

**actress19**: thank you, I hope it stays interesting.

**Des Iries**: maybe. Depends on whether or not plans to shave the fop fall into place or not. We'll see. :)

**IflyNAVY**: here's more! Hope you like!

**Mrs. Gerard Butler**: what is it with everyone and cutting hair? Maybe I'll have to see. Hope you enjoy!

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**Peanut Butter cups and Stranger Things

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**

Weeks passed and Erik and His companion fell into an easy pattern of daily life. Whoever was up first in the morning made breakfast, she was starting to get up earlier after one freighting breakfast. They would normally spend the morning in their own way, she stayed at the house and did God knew what while he taught Christine in her dressing room. Lunch was a casual affair; she would eat and disappear to terrorize the ballet corps. Afternoons were spent haunting the opera house. Tammy showed a knack for scaring nearly anyone witless after the bloody warrior incident; in which she dressed in her highland best, doused herself in stage blood, and ran around barring her sword and screaming like a banshee. Joseph Buquet seemed to have developed a nervous twitch after that. They would meet back at the house for dinner; she had a bizarre taste in foods like "pizza" and "stir fry". The evenings would be spent in relative quiet, he would compose and she could be found some where with a book.

Tonight however was different, she had skipped their dinner and he hadn't seen her all afternoon. Pausing from his work he glanced at the mantle clock, 11:25. What on earth could be keeping her? He returned to what proved a difficult phrase of Don Juan. She had some explaining to do when she comes back.

She slouched into the room, kicking the door closed. Painfully she placed her hands on her back and straitened. Groaning she popped her back and practically fell onto the fainting couch. The mantle clock chimed midnight. She sighed; at least she beat Cinderella's timing.

The strains of music wafted down the hall, a small smile spread across her face. Seeming almost in a trance she walked down the hall and leaned against the door. She loved listening to his music. It was the simple fact that he understood, loved, and knew music as well as she did that placed him at the top of her favorite tall, dark, and glomp worthy guys… Batman came a close second followed by Captain Jack Sparrow. Sinking to her knees she let the music of Don Juan wash over her. Webber's version didn't even come close to the real thing. Though the musical possessed a dark musicality the phantom's music was much darker in a passionate, seductive way. She could almost feel his anger at the world and his longing in the music, if she wasn't so tired she would weep.

Suddenly the music stopped, she frowned had she dozed off and not realized it? No… whenever music was involved she made sure to hear it all the way through… besides her eyes were open. Abruptly her view of the opposite wall fell away and the back of her head met the ground with a heavy thud, "OW!"

"What are you doing?" half of the ceiling disappeared, replaced by a dark mask. If it wasn't the dark one himself… wait whom else would it be? Man I need sleep.

"Nothing, oh great shadowed one!" she smiled weakly. "I've just grown a sudden fondness for you're carpeting!"

She could have sworn he just raised an eyebrow! "You look terrible."

"Gee. Thanks." she commented flatly. "I had to setup some things for tomorrow and that stupid Buquet kept coming by. I had to jump into at least five different trap doors!"

A sudden shout was heard from beyond the ceiling. Instantly both their gazes flickered upward and he hissed, "What. Did. You. Do?"

Her gaze still fixed on the unseen point beyond his shoulder, "I guess I forgot to cut him down. Oh well, I night standing on a box with his arms tied above his head will do him good."

"WHAT?"

She glared at him, "he got in the way! Plus I knocked him out with a bucket first, I'm not that careless!" a grin broke across her face, "… he he… bucket, Buquet."

He sent her a look like she was insane. "WHAT? It Rhymes… sort of?" She sighed quiet loudly the carpet underneath her thin shirt was starting to scratch. "I'm sorry. I'm normally much more mature, but I seem to get like this when I'm tired and caffeine deprived."

He glared at her, "what did he get in the way of?"

She raised her hand. "Question! You being so tall; do you ever get a kink in your neck from looking down on people?"

"Now that you mention it… wait…" He frowned at her, "what spurred this sudden outburst?"

She shrugged, "nothing really. You're just the first really tall person I've ever felt comfortable enough with to ask."

"You're avoiding my question."

She knitted her brows, "that question would be…?"

"What. Did. He. Get. In. The. Way. Of?" he ground out each word through clenched teeth.

"AH! That question!" she raised her eye brows. Then she looked around nervously for dramatic effect, no one would really listen in unless you counted Ayesha who seemed content in her basket. "That's classified information." Her hand rose in what she thought was common gesture that said I'm-tired-of-being-on-your-cold-floor-will-you-please-help-me-up. He seemed not to get the message so she let her arm fall lamely to her side. "I can only let you know what you wish if you know the password."

"This is ridiculous…"

"BZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz…wrong" she cried, grinning madly. "I'm sorry but the correct phrase was trapdoor lover. I'm so sorry but you did not win today's grand prize of Tammy's hidden pranks. Please enjoy our lovely parting gifts of a coffee mug, t shirt, and …would you please get me of this floor!"

Grudgingly he lifted her up and spun her to face him. She watched the world spin, "Whoa, I don't recommend doing that again."

"Why not?"

"Dude, first off if you do that again I will either barf on your shoes or tear your arm off and beat you with it. I get motion sickness. I never rode the teacups at Disneyland and I couldn't stay in a car or plane for long periods of time. Let's try this again, what's your question?"

"Do you suffer from memory loss? You know what my question was!" he fixed her with an amber glare that probably have had scorched a daisy at five miles away.

"Sorry" she chirped with as much peppiness as she could muster (this wasn't a lot considering she was the one to sabotage the cheer squad in school). She quickly strode down the hall to her room, "if I tell you, where would be the fun in watching your reaction tomorrow?"

She saluted him from down the hall and quickly shut the door locking it. She heard a muffled yell "TAMMY!" Smiling she retired for the night hoping her aching muscles weren't for nothing.

XxX

She had led him to box five insisting that it was the best spot to watch her mayhem. He'd seen her ginning like a maniac all morning, he almost feared for the cast… key word there being almost.

"This had better be good," he hissed.

She sent him an annoyed look, "Don't I only do the best?"

Before he could retort, she started giggling madly. His gaze traveled to the stage where the entire company of the opera house was collected backstage looking fearfully at the expanse of polished wood. M. Reyer was demanding to know why his cast would not come on stage. His demands were met with shrugs and mumbled apologizes. Finally, when he was starting to look like a volcano waiting to erupt a lonely clarinet player tumbled up to him handed him a note and whispered something in his ear.

His anger was quickly replaced with a look of utter disbelief. Ripping open the note he read quickly and dismissed the musician.

"What is this?" Erik whispered even he hadn't been able to keep a rehearsal from commencing. Though he hadn't really tried that hard in the past. She grinned at him and leaned against his shoulder, stretching on her toes, to whisper in his ear. Her warm breath brushed his ear and her voice was low and barely a whisper, "Wait for it…"

"I DEMAHND TOA SEE MY MAESTRO!" a shrill all too familiar voice cut through the air. Both Ghost and Siren physically flinched. Then ever so slowly a twisted grin spread across Tammy's fair features, "she wouldn't dare…"

"WHYA IS EHVERY ONE STANDING AROUND? OUTA MY WAY!"

"She Would!" Tammy's shoulder's started shaking with suppressed laughter. Eyes fixed on the stage; Erik saw the monstrosity push her way through the crowd. Today's ensemble included a horrible lime green dress with pink stripes and a ridiculous feathered hat. Several cast member's tried to dissuade her from going any further, but these pleas fell on deaf ears. She stomped on stage screeching with all her might. "I demahnd toa know 'ho made these coustu…."

The rest of her statement was lost in a shrill shriek. Her lime green heels lost their traction on the wood and sent Carlotta flying down stage in a crash course for the orchestra pit. Several musicians dove out of the way protecting their precious instruments. Carlotta skidded across the tympani, barely missed a group of trombones, and landed squarely in M. Reyer's arms knocking him over in the process. The landed beside a section of panicked woodwinds, in a pile of lime green skirts and a white feather sticking at an awkward angle from her cap.

At this point several costumers, ballet rats that got pushed out on stage along with a few innocent bystanders were now struggling to stay up right and not follow in Carlotta's disastrous path. To put it bluntly, it looked as if everyone had suddenly forgot to stand and were each struggling in his or her own fashion. Simultaneously both Erik and Tammy had lost it and were literally on the floor of the box laughing till tears were streaming out of their eyes.

"Oh…my… I CAN'T…b-breathe!" Tammy managed between gales of laughter. "It was -like…zzzzzzing, off she goes!"

"How… Did you manage such a feat?" Erik gasped out before giving to another peal of laughter.

"Turtle waxed the stage, dyed Carlotta's costume to make her determined to see Reyer, and a well placed note." she rocked back onto her knees. Her eyes sparkled with laughter that escaped here and there while see spoke. "The wax will last a few weeks or until someone gets fed up enough to sand paper the stage."

She scrambled to her feet and leaned over the rail of the box. "I believe Christine will be filling in for Carlotta as Margarita."

Sure enough below Carlotta had recovered from her episode as a human sled, and now was throwing one of the largest tantrums Tammy had ever seen. With a smile Tammy couldn't resist aggravating the situation more. In as booming a voice she could manage she started singing at the top of her lungs.

_You know you make me want to Shout!_

_Kick my heels up and Shout!_

_Throw my hands up and Shout!_

_Throw my head back and Shout!_

_Come on now!_

_Don't forget to say you will!_

_Don't forget to say YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!_

Behind her Erik slowly stood. Clutching his side, he realized this was the first time he had laughed in…ever. Instantly he sobered, she had caused. He had never let anyone get this close to him, not even Daroga or Giry had the privilege of being able to make him laugh.

_SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY YOU WILL! HEY! HEY!_

Satisfied with the antics of more panicked people running and slipping about the stage like frightened chickens with their heads cut off, she leaned back into the box and turned to face him. "I love the smell of panic in the morning!"

Her grin faltered slightly and her gaze clouded in confusion momentarily at his expression but was quickly replaced by her usual air of serene calm. The only tell tale sign of her suspicion that all was not well was the look in her eyes; she tried to cover that with a coy smile. "Now was that worth the wait?"

XxX

**A week later…**

She was bored. This was not a "good" situation. Technically it was good for her but bad for any one who happened to get in the way. So, being bored and trapped in an opera house with tons of victims was not a necessarily "good" scenario. I think you get the picture.

Right now she was outside the kitchens. She had been lucky enough to find a store of coffee beans; evidentially Firmin likes his with two sugars. Normally she would have brewed the coffee, but seeing as how caffeine deprived she really was she had grabbed a handful and was now munching them. What she needed was a good prank to pull.

She spied a few discarded pie plates and an idea started forming in her suddenly over caffeinated mind…….forming……..processing….. grabbed as many as she could carry and headed for the ballet room. It was time for an encounter of the unexplained UFOish kind.

**Ten minutes later…**

"MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER!" a horrible cackling voice broke across the room. Zipping around the room horrible silver disks went whizzing over hapless dancers' heads. Winking and resembling buzz saws several dancers ran for cover. Mm. Giry was trying in vain to regain control, this almost worked until a well-aimed silver disk hit her midsection causing her to "fold" under the pressure.

"SURRENDER TO ME! HAND OVER EVERY SOURCE OF CHOCOLATE AND CAFFINE YOU HAVE!"

Several more disks went flying; one grazed a blonde girl's shoulder, while the other bounced off the windowsill.

"NEVER MESS WITH THE FRISBEE CHAMPION!"

Pandemonium was a good word to describe the scene below. Dancers had taken cover under any thing they could. Five or more had ducked under a table, others ran for the door, while one or two just stood and gaped at the flying disks that seemed to come form every where. "OH THE HUMANITY! SAVE YOUR SELVES!"

"It's the SIREN!" A brunette dancer by the name of Danielle cried out from under the table. "We're all going to die!"

"CANCAN CAN YOU DO THE CANCAN? ANYBODY CANCAN! EVERYBODY CAN! DADADADADADADADA!"

Tammy was having the best time of her life. She hadn't had the much fun since collage. She released a few more of her depleting pile of disks and scurried to another hole.

Erik was a genius to have designed this place. A tunnel led off the side of the lake and up pas the fourth cellar. Three tunnels branched off the first one and one led to the ballet room. A path led all the way around the room with various screens above the practice mirrors to watch, or in this case pelt various things at, the people below. She had divided her pile of pie pans into twelve even piles and placed them besides the screens.

Giggling she ran squarely into something tall, dark, and definitely solid. With a mild cruse she reeled and looked strait into the amber gaze of the great shadowed one. He glared at her, "what are you doing?"

"Reenacting the war of the worlds," she smiled throwing the last two disks for that pile. "With my own twist of course."

He gave her a look that said clearly that he thought she was mad. "What has gotten into you?"

She tried to move past him to check her other piles, but he wouldn't move. "About ten servings of caffeine really. Now will you move?"

"No!" he stated firmly. She frowned and repeated lamely, "no?"

"Yes..."

"Yes!" she chirped. And brushed past him only to be spun around and forced down the path back to the lair.

"No! You are going back home until you're back to normal." she frowned being cooped up in the lair all day didn't sound like fun to her, in fact it sounded like the opposite. The same four walls, no chaos, no destruction, no vict…. She paused. Time to put those psychology classes to work. "Technically speaking, how would you know whether or not this behavior is normal or not?"

She felt the figure behind her hesitate then continue leading her down the path, she had visions of ALW's movie going through her head but she pushed them to the side to continue in her quest. "You can't for sure say that this isn't normal for me. I could have just been putting on an act for two weeks. I could in fact be as loony as a cookoo bird and you wouldn't know for sure."

He gruffly led her to the boat and began rowing their way across the lake. He was getting agitated, good. She let her words sink in before she continued, "Or, I could in fact be calm and serene normally, and only crazy when exposed to caffeine. But you wouldn't know because I've never been on caffeine in your presence. That and I've only been here for a short time and do you really know me that well?"

"Do you ever shut up?" he asked gruffly.

"Exactly what I'm saying. You don't know what's normal for me. Heck I used to fly across the country to perform and here I am stuck in a time period where the only one's to accomplish flight happen to be hot air balloonists and those bicycle happy Wright brothers. Technically nothing here is normal for me so how can I be expected to act normally when every thing around here isn't normal."

He jumped from the boat and threw open the door hoping to escape her useless prattle.

"You're an idea person Erik, think about it? How would you be able to act normally if every thing you considered normal was taken suddenly away from you. I mean, I can't do any thing I normally do for fun here. I can't listen to CD's, or go on the internet, or talk to the D.C.B.A., or read people's phan phics…"

"Their what?" he turned on her. She paled when she realized what she said.

"Nothing!" she squeaked. "I got carried away."

XxX

**That night…**

Erik could tell she was up to something. After her mention of "phan phics" she had scurried into her room like she had done something unspeakable. All through out their dinner and when he went to compose she had seemed distant, as if in deep thought. Currently she was in the sitting room scratching away at some piece of parchment, plunking notes and scales on the piano occasionally. These musical interludes seemed to have no purpose what so ever, only as tool to focus her mind. His curiosity was prompted at what she might be doing, but he knew better than barge in on her work.

She had the oddest tendency to mutter to herself when working. Perhaps if he were just to observe her, he would find out something of use. He snatched a random novel from the self and headed for the room. She was curled against the pillows on the fainting couch, Ayesha at her feet. Various works of Shakespeare, Aristotle, and Socrates along with plank parchment were scattered around her, organized in a fashion only she could under stand. She was dressed in lose fitting black trousers and her black "tank top" as she called it. Pencil in hand, her brow furrowed, she was scratching at a sketchbook she had managed to get from somewhere. She paused frowned and erased the last few lines on her paper, "I thought you were composing."

He raised a brow and lowered himself into a chair opposite the couch. "I quit nearly an hour ago."

"Ah," her eyes never left her paper. An easy silence grew between them; he had started on the first few pages of his book, which he now realized was on politics. (What the? How the heck did a politics book get in his library?) Suddenly she broke the silence, "hey Erik?"

"Hmmm"

"Does the opera house have a vent system?"

"Yes," he answered easily. Then realized what she had asked. He lowered his book and met her gaze, "why?"

She glanced away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern of the couch. "No particular reason."

He sighed, "Do I really wish to know?"

She grinned, "Probably not."

"I see," he returned to his book. She caught a glimpse at the title, and lifted a brow. Since when was Erik so interested in politics? She set aside her notebook. It originally was his, but she needed to write down the various ideas that came to her. It had been one of the few that were blank and not covered in either music, ideas for experiments, or sketches of Christine. She had stayed far away from those.

She uncoiled her self from her soft spot and stretched. Sitting too long always left her practically itching to do some thing, which may have been why her high school teachers disliked her so much. She prowled the perimeter of the room, searching for something more interesting than wallpaper or a phantom that seemed to almost (metaphorically) constantly wear a sign that said "Do NOT disturb". "Say Erik what's today?"

"Tuesday." she threw a glare at him over her shoulder, he seemed to impervious to it.

"I meant the date."

"October 30." he said casually.

"What?" she nearly jumped. She wasn't a jumpy person; one of her rules was to maintain consent calm through all situations. Control was key, and now she seemed to have lost that. "I get thrown back in time by some ultimate cosmic power, and they don't have the decency to send me back I time for my birthday?" she glared pointedly at the ceiling, "I DEMAND A RE-DO!"

"I seriously doubt yelling at the ceiling will help you cause." he glanced at her, "out of curiosity's sake, what is your age?"

"I was, or I guess will, be born on September 10, 1980. Before my cosmic adventure I was 24, but I guess I'm 25 now!" with one last glare Seething she plunked her self down at the piano and started playing a measure of staccato quarter notes on middle c over and over again. The musical version of Chinese water torture. "bink…bink…bink…bink… bink…bink… bink…bink… "

"Stop it." Mild tone not good enough.

"bink…bink… bink…bink… bink…bink… "

"I mean it" Hissing, closer.

"bink…bink… bink…bink… "

"Stop!" definite growl, getting warmer.

"bink…bink…"

"Enough!" Full bellow. Too hot! Too Hot! There we go! She found her wrist in the elegant long fingered grasp of the shadowed one him self. His voice had gone back to a hiss, darn. "Either stop or play some thing else."

She was sorely tempted to play her version of water torture only on a higher note, but she figured that wouldn't go over well. Instead she chose a different tune, extracting her wrist from his grasp she began. The flourish of the piano keys the tune began. It was a lower tune meant to showoff her lower mezzo range.

_Someone's being bashful…_

_That's no way to be, not with me…_

_Can't you see?_

_That I am just as embarrassed as you…._

_And I can see your point of view!_

She flashed him a grin.

_I've… always…. Been…_

_SHY!…_ (Did he just roll his eyes?)

_I admit it,_

_I'M SHY!_

_Though this confident air,_

_Is a cloak that I wear cause… _(I know original calls for "a mask that I wear", but with the delicate mask situation here I decided that instead of killing off my main character here I should keep her around)

_I'm shy!_

She heard him mutter, "Some how I doubt this." She grinned, and belted the notes in the chorus.

_And you mat be SURE!  
Way down deep…_

_I'm DEMURE!_

_Though this impression I give…_

_I admit I am living a lie!_

"_Speaking of lies!" he mutters. She smiled._

_I know that is wrong…_

_To be meek as I am,_

_My chances may pass me by_

_I try to be strong!_

_But as weak as I am…_

_All I can do is try!_

_GOD…  
KNOWS…  
I TRY!_

_Though I'm frightened and _

_shy!_

"Fitting song," he politely applauded as she finished the last chord. She stuck her tongue at him, "shut up! Sarcasm won't work on me."

"Really?" he leaned for ward. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she recovered her clam composure plunking random notes. Whoa! She thought, I guess no one ever taught him the importance of personal space. Sooooooooo sexy, those eyes…. Wait I think he's talking….yep lips are definitely moving…. wonder what he's saying………….opps I think he just asked a question……….think what were we talking about…… thinkthinkthinkthink……….nothing………still nothing….. Might as well agree.

"Yes absolutely" he sent her a questioning look. She rubbed the ring in her left hand absent mindedly. What did I just agree to?…………..I bet you I just agreed to give up my bed to Christine when she comes to visit……stupid Christine……. Must drop something disgusting on her while she sleeps…… wonder where the fop is…..I haven't seen him yet since I've been here…….. Wait Erik's talking again…..

"Are you sure?" he asked. She smiled and did the first thing that came to mind, "yes, why wouldn't I be sure?"

I knew it….. I just gave up my bed…. Stupid poodle haired chit….I'm hungry….I need Reeses.

She glanced at the piano rubbing her ring and thinking of peanut butter cups when she froze. On the polished top of the piano sat a neatly wrapped package of Reeses peanut butter cups. She gaped at the package, she hazard a glance at Erik. He was glaring at the orange package suspiciously.

"What is...?"

"MINE!" she pounced on the chocolate treat. She scurried to the couch, looking like Gollum after he got the ring back right before he fell in the molten lava of mount doom. "My precious…"

"How did you do that?" Erik asked in a mix of bewilderment, and being weirded out. She looked up from her prize, "well, first I jumped and grabbed…"

"No! Not that. How did you make," he eloquently waved at her chocolate, "that appear?"

She thought, "Well I was rubbing my ring, and thinking of Reeses peanut butter cups. Then I actually decided to pay attention to what you were saying when it was there on the piano."

He glared at her, "I'll ignore that last part. Try rubbing your ring again while thinking of something."

She paused what to think of, it should probably be small. Hmmmmmmmm….Yes! Rubbing her ring she watched the spot of rug in front of her.

Erik frowned.

"YAY!" she squeed.

* * *

**Well… what did she bring into Erik's world? How much chaos can she cause now that she's found the rings new power? Send me your ideas. Please review!**


	8. AN

**Author's note:**

Hey guys! I know I haven't updated for a while, and though it pains me to say this but I will be unable to update until January. Now before you go and throw various projectile objects at me, you have to realize that if I had control of the situation I would update almost every week. I'm sorry if I disappointed you guys, but I need to get my priorities strait, real life before internet life. I will be able to get back on and update in January.

Until then I suggest you read "A Mirror between Two Worlds" by Silvermasque, or some of the other wonderful stories on this site.

Thank you,

Miss Black Shadow

(Tammy)


	9. Queen of Hearts

**Disclaimer: I don't own this and all that legal talk**

Well it's been a cold winter in my little corner of the universe, but I'm back!

( I will survive starts playing in the back ground) excuse me, (music cuts off as player is hit by a big baseball bat) Sorry I just hate that song. Any 'hoz, I'm glad to be back and I have a ton of ideas for new chapters… they just have to be organized in my tiny little mind. Hope you enjoy the new chapter and I wish to hear from you!

* * *

_**Queen of hearts

* * *

**_

"YAY," She squeed. On the dark red rug sat a black roundabout, filled with little plastic and brightly colored disks. She sprinted to the strange object leaving the partially opened package of foodstuffs on the couch. "YES! It's everything, $1, 5, 10, 20, 50, 100 chips. Where's the cards?"

Erik left the relative safety of his position at the arm of the fainting couch to inspect this orange package that came form no where. He picked it up and checked to see if Tammy was distracted, she was currently engrossed in trying to find out where the playing cards had gone. He read the label "Reeses peanut butter cups, chocolate and peanut butter….", on the front was what he would term a poorly drawn brown crown. On the back it listed stuff such as trans fat and calories. He would have to inquire after the meaning of these words later. He pulled back the orange wrapping. "hey!"

He jumped as the orange treat was snatched from his hand. "I called snakes!"

"Snakes?" He asked as she ripped the wrapper off the two chocolate disks. She handed him one, "basically, if you want something yet someone else wants it to you can call snakes and then they can't have it unless the want to face the consequences of being bit by the snakes."

She popped the chocolate disk in her mouth and closed her eyes savoring the taste of chocolate, "Mmmmm, so good.." she grinned and fell against the couch. "Anyways it's in the simplest of terms it's a metaphorical presentation of possession and a play on the psychological fears of unknown consequences."

Hmm, interesting. He thought and returned to the small morsel. He turned the small brown food thing in his hand, could she really be won over by such a small thing. Throwing caution to the wind he took a bite. The sensation of melting chocolate and creamy peanut butter on his tongue had him realizing, why she couldn't help but let out a small moan of satisfaction. He joined her on the couch, "Is this the secret the future holds?"

She laughed, "One of them. We've also figured out how to make carts move miles without horses, make moving pictures, and unlocked the secret of flying."

"Impossible," He scoffed. "man can't fly."

She laughed again, "As I sit here, I swear to you it's true." With a grin she leaned against his side and began humming a nameless tune, playing with the deck of cards that were once thought lost. This was one thing he didn't know if he could get used to. Tamara was a person who felt compelled to hug and be around those she knew. Right now it seemed that he was the only person she knew. She seemed to insist on spending time with him, as if she didn't know how long she had here and in a sense that was true. Who knew whether the magic that had brought her here would wear off and send her back or if she was truly stuck here as she claimed.

She had picked up French quickly in their short lessons. She should be above as a chorus member, she had the voice to handle it, it needed a little work but nothing he couldn't help. Or she could join the orchestra, which reminded him of something he wanted to ask her. "how many instruments can you play exactly?"

She frowned and leaned forward in her seat. "you know I never really stopped to count. I'd guess about seven, given if you count my voice."

"SEVEN!"

She jumped and fell off the couch. "OW! What's with you?"

He glared at her, "you can play seven instruments and you never told me? Which ones?"

She had the sudden feeling she was skating on thin ice, "Piano, clarinet, drums, bagpipes, voice, little bit of guitar, and practically any percussion instrument you give me. My band teacher used to say that if you gave me an instrument, a few sheets of music, and an hour I would be able to play it. That and I was really bored in collage. I didn't tell you because you didn't ask. Now you want to play poker or what?"

He blinked, she changed topics fast, "what?"

"poker." she sighed, "you wanna play?"

"You want to gamble with me?" he laughed. How naïve could she be?

"is there a problem with this?" she gazed up at him, "I've always wanted to play but never knew how." She sat playing absentmindedly with the deck, "I've always been fascinated by betting games. Unfortunately I've never had a knack for winning, my sister however could easily win fifty bucks off of me any day of the week."

His gaze narrowed on there own accord. Was she trying to pull some thing, her eyes were crystal clear and purely innocent. She pulled out a scruffy old leather wallet, "I even went to the trouble of finding some money to bet with."

He wasn't sure if he should, but his curiosity of seeing how well she played was almost over whelming. She fumbled the cards, sending a large number of them onto the floor, she bent to pick them up sending him an uneasy smile.

Well he could always pay her back what she lost…

XxX

**Several hours later…**

A large amount was at stake now. Nearly a thousand franks were in the pot and he wasn't going to lose… again. His amber gaze met cold steady blue green ones. He laid down his hand "Full house, jacks and tens."

She glanced at the cards, "Wow, that is very impressive."

"thank you," he remarked smugly, reaching for the money.

"But…" he froze.

"but?" he echoed. She smiled and laid out her hand, "Strait king high."

Almost stunned he sat back as she swept the pile of bills and coins to her side of the table. He had been beat.

Looking back on it now, he saw she had been playing dumb in the beginning. Asking what hands beat what, losing a couple of hands. Than she changed and slowly began winning, first a hand here and there. It soon became nearly constant for her to win, she always lured him into another hand with her talk, jests, and taunts. Now she had won a fraction of his salary.

"how in the world…" he didn't finish his comment, but he didn't have to.

"It wasn't that simple. Your not easy to fool, Erik." she started shuffling the cards. "it just helps the my majors in collage were in the theatre arts emphasis on acting, English I was always good at persuasive writing, and music theory and vocals."

"I was almost certain you saw through my naive card player act. That's why I fumbled the cards."

He leaned across the table, "basically your saying I was just beaten by a woman who just pretended to act dumb."

"No," her smile grew wider. "you were just beaten by a clever collage graduate that makes it her specialty to fool others by covering her feelings and putting on disguises."

"That's withholding information I demand a rematch!"

She stared at him and saw he was perfectly serious. Laughing she observed, "Did you ever bother to ask me what I did back in my time? If you had bothered to ask I would have been more than happy to tell you, and we wouldn't be in this situation. There is a lot about me that you don't know."

He started, then came to face the facts. She had the unnerving tendency to speak the total unmarred truth.

"Besides," she glanced pointedly at his dwindling pile of francs. "Your running out of money. Unless you want to play strip poker, I suggest we stop."

"no need for that." darn! Here she thought if she (smirk) played her cards right she would have him naked in 30 min… 15 if she was lucky. Resigned she started to put the cards away to have them snatched from her.

"I do think however," he shuffled the cards, his amber gaze challenging, "that a rematch is in order."

She arched a brow and leaned forward in her chair. "Just a boring rematch? I only play for high stakes."

"Really?" he laid down the cards, "Lets make it more interesting shall we?"

"What do I want if I win?" She adopted a thoughtful look, then a small smile broke across her features. "You must take me with you to Perros this summer, AND let me have one kiss."

"WHAT!" a kiss, she wanted a KISS! He saw the sparkle of challenge in her eyes. She was trying to make him second guess himself. Surely that's what she was doing, she couldn't really wish to kiss him. His voice grew low and dark, "Fine, if I win you must stay here and answer all my questions, no matter what they are, and you will be my servant for one week."

"What!" she looked outraged. Perfect. They sat there for a minute staring each other down, daring the other to back off and forfeit. She finally spoke.

"Fine, deal."

The cards were dealt and first round of betting began. He had a possible strait, ace high but he needed the jack to win. Glancing across the table he saw nothing in her eyes. No emotion, no spark, not even a reflection of the cards. She disposed of two cards and drew her replacements. He discarded a 4 of clubs and drew what he needed, jack of diamonds. She murmured, "Check".

"All in." he pushed his stack in and waited for her. She chanced a glance at his face and saw his taunting smile. Sharply she matched his bet.

"Strait, ace high." he announced coolly. She stared at the cards. He was about to ask what she had; when she placed face down on the table, collected the remnants of her stack, and spoke. "you have your servant."

She swept out of the room leaving him dazed and slightly confused. This wasn't the same person who had just bet him for a kiss, was it? Curiosity abounded, when he was about to follow her he saw her cards innocently sitting there. He flipped them over to reveal a four card flush of hearts King high and a 5 of spades. He checked the cards in the discard pile to find she had discarded a 10 of clubs and the queen of hearts.

XxX

She wasn't sure why she had lost on purpose. She sat in front of the vanity brushing her hair, it was beginning to frizz because of living next to an under ground lake. She had changed into one of her nightgowns, only this one was shorter and lighter than her others, and her green robe. Normally, she enjoyed the last few hours before sleep. The quiet, or mostly quiet if Erik was composing, time she let her mind wander. Tonight however was distinctly different.

If she hadn't gone noble and lost on purpose she could be kissing one of the sexiest men on earth. Instead she was here with only her thoughts and a hair brush for company. She sighed and placed the brush on the vanity, it wasn't like brushing her hair till it all fell out would solve her dang sense of chivalry.

She laid her head face down in the vanity's short smooth top, only because she figured killing brain cells by banging her head against it would only alert the shadowed one that something was up.

She guessed it wasn't the fact that though she wanted to kiss him, heck who wouldn't, somewhere deep past her phangirl shell she knew the kiss wouldn't mean anything to him. Dang those psychology classes! She thought bitterly, I hate it when my common sense decides to wake up and foil my plans.

She would just have to go on with her life, torturing Carlotta, the poodle haired twit, and anyone else she could find, hoping that being Erik's companion would be enough for when the axe fell on his romance. Man she needed some ice cream right now.

Almost as if on cue the door swung open with a bang. She sighed but didn't move her head from the horizontal surface, "Don't you ever knock?"

"what is the meaning of this?" he bellowed flinging the card on the table. She glanced at it and froze, note to self never leave cards unattended. She did the only thing she could think to do, she went into smart aleck mode.

"I'm not sure, but I believe it's used with fifty one other types of cards to play various games by oneself or a group."

"Don't play dumb," he hissed through gritted teeth. "part of our deal was you would answer all of my questions."

"Ah," she closed her eyes content by the fact that the cool surface of the vanity was hiding her blush. "But you see I did answer you question. You need to be more specific."

She was suddenly yanked backwards in her chair and spun so she was forced to face him.

He sat on the edge of her bed and calmly spoke, "Why did you lose on purpose?"

"I honestly can't answer that… no! don't start!" she quickly said, knowing that he would argue with that silly bet. "I know the agreement. But I don't know the answer so how can I tell you it."

His gaze narrowed and he adopted a harsh tone, "Could it be that you are repulsed by the thought of spending a whole summer with me, or maybe you didn't want the kiss?"

Dang he was getting specific. "No. I'd love to spend time with you, and why wouldn't I …"

She caught herself right as she was about to say_ "why wouldn't I ask for something I want."_ hopefully it just sounded like she finished her thoughts right there. He looked dumbfounded for a moment, she advantage to steer the conversation in another direction. "Don't you wish to know of the future?"

He shook his head, "At another date. You need sleep, I'll need the house spotless for a guest coming tomorrow evening."

"What makes me think you aren't going to make this servant thing easy?" she frowned and a warning tone came into her voice. "Wait…who's coming?"

He stood and moved to leave the room. She stood also folding her robe, covering what the nightgown didn't, she leveled his amber gaze. "Who's coming, Erik?"

He swept past her and said frankly, "Christine."

He was out the door and she shut it quickly. She was going to have to pummel something. Pulling out a cloak from her closet she decided to go for a walk.

XxX

"really, so the bigger version of this can fly at speeds that can out race dozens of trains? Fascinating." he lounged in the chair at the table. "you missed a spot."

She gritted her teeth as she scrubbed the floor harder. She was in dark forest green PJ pants, and black t-shirt. Chanting over and over in her head that she was doing this for Erik and not for Christine. But on the heels of that thought came the one that nagged at the edge of her mind. That annoying common sense piped up again saying that _if she was truly doing this for Erik, why didn't she just go ahead and tell him of his fame._ She couldn't tell him. _Why not? _He… well, he isn't ready. _A thirty some old man isn't ready to know that he is adored by thousands of girls world wide who hate Miss fish eyes and the fop for stealing his chance at a normal life, and those same girls go all drooly glompy when some one sings a song he is famous for? _point? _TELL HIM!_

"AUGH!" she screeched. Realizing that scream was out loud and not in her head she flinched. He stared at her, "everything okay?"

"Everything's just peachy," she sent him a fake grin, and suppressed the twitch that was developing under her eye. Then went back to scrubbing the floor pretending it was a drawing of Christine and she was erasing it piece by sickeningly perfect piece. _There goes that perfect poodle hair… oh now I got you're nose…. Bye bye fish eyes….shut you're trap, or better yet let me shut it for you! Man I need a life I'm yelling at the floor in my mind!_

Erik had woken her at the crack of dawn and immediately after a sleepy breakfast he'd put her strait to work cleaning his already immaculate house. This was fine with her, she could be a good house keeper if she ever put her mind to it. What was bugging her was the fact that he was scrutinizing her work while asking extremely odd question. When she went to clean out her room so Miss poodle hair could use it tonight, he had sat on the bed and quizzed her about her family. He than moved on to the arts, how things had changed, and music? She answered as best she could and when he didn't believe her about movies she had the ring produce a fully charged laptop and DVD copies of "Singin' in the rain" and "The Lord of the Rings trilogy". He had been criticizing Gene Kelly until she told him to try tap dancing when you have gallons of water being dumped on your head. Her morning entertainment had been watching Erik, nearly take out three kitchen chairs, and she doubted if the sink would ever be the same again.

It was now early afternoon and she was scrubbing the kitchen floor for what seemed the twelfth time. Erik had started grilling her on technology. He seemed stuck on flight, he was fiddling with a small model plane and a sketch she'd made to explain the finer points of lift. Frankly, she was scared of what might happen if he ever got it into his head to make technological progress go faster. She suddenly had visions of Him jumping off the opera house roof with a glider strapped to his back. Some how she doubted all of phandom would forgive her if the story was suddenly cut short.

This brought her back to her original problem. _So, you gonna tell him?_ She promptly emptied her bucket of suds out side. Muttering "I need some air" she tore the green bandana from her head. Moving to leave the kitchen she found herself face to chest with a very immobile object. "Erik move."

"You're not done, Tamara" he said in that sensuous growl only he could perfect. She glared, unflinching at his amber eyes, "Erik, if I scrub any harder my finger prints will disappear, plus for being five stories underground this place is sparkling. I don't know if you've been to the ballet rat's dressing room lately or not, but compared to that this is a mansion."

She placed a long fingered hand in the middle of his chest and pushed slightly. "I'm going to get some air and maybe raise someone's heckles so they won't come tonight."

"Carlotta said she was leaving for good." Erik drawled. She snorted very unlady like, "and you believed her? Trust me, Erik. If she's the stuck up star I believe she is, she will come and give her managers one last chance to grovel at her high heeled sequined feet. Chris, back in my time, was the same way."

This last part was said with a tad bit of bitterness. She grabbed her cloak and made her exit. Leaving a confused phantom behind. He cursed he hadn't even been able to question her on how to make a glider.

XxX

Tammy collapsed on the bean bag. Ok, until she could figure out the best way to solve her problem she had to keep a low phantom profile. So she was here, it was a small room that she had stumbled upon last week. The heavy oak door had a rose engraved in it and it seemed to be a forgotten green room. She dubbed it the rose room and began work on it. Work went a lot faster when she found the rings power to bring modern stuff, back.

She looked around the room, the dark walls had been covered in spare theatre posters from the managers office covered the dark stone walls. A blue couch with a faded flower pattern leaned against the far wall along with a couple of freestanding lamps with beaded fringe shades. Scarves had been thrown over them to decrease the light that leaked out into the hallway. Persian rugs covered the floor in intricate patterns and golden designs. From the ceiling hung a mini light fixture that reminded her of those metal chandeliers that appear in movies only to be cut down by the hero and crush a bunch of evil minions. A wood stove was opposite the couch, she had big plans for that when December rolled around.

In the corner, by special request of her to the ring, sat her keyboard. The panel and keys gleamed in the faint life. This instrument had special sentimental value to her, it was the first thing she had bought as a professional actor and musician. She had gone all out on the features; full 88 key board, 625 voices, 200 preprogrammed songs, and ability to record. When she called for the keyboard her phantom sheet music and DVD somehow found their way back as well. She hadn't bothered to put them in a hiding spot yet, she doubted if Erik would come to this part of the opera house in a while. He would be busy preparing the wedding dress for the big reveal tonight. She had time.

She stood and crossed the room to sit before her favorite modern marvel. Selecting the chamber strings voice she slipped the ring off her finger, couldn't be too careful. She decided to play the selection from Il Muto, specifically the part where Carlotta croaks.

A few measures into the song the door swung open with bang. She jumped sending her to the floor along with her music.

"Tammy?" a familiar deep voice purred. She blinked, "Erik! We need to address this knocking issue."

He glared, "I didn't know where you went. How was I to know you were here?"

She picked herself off the floor, "I would hope the music would have given it away."

He paused, "that was you? I was looking for an orchestra, how did you…?"

She stepped aside gesturing to her instrument, "Erik, I'd like to introduce you to my keyboard. It's like your piano but it can sound like a full 100 piece ensemble."

He stepped forward to inspect this machine when a faint crunching sounded beneath his feet. He stepped back and grabbed the slightly crinkled book. Opening it he scanned the music. He went stone still, his face was impassive. She paled, oh no. "Um, there's something I've been meaning to tell you…"

"what is this?" he hissed. She flinched, why hadn't she told him earlier. "you might want to sit down for this."

"tell me now," he growled sitting on the couch. She paced in front of him, not sure how to tell him. Sure she thought this time would come sooner or later, but she wished it would have come later. The direct approach seemed the best. Taking a deep breath she faced him, "you know your well known here in the opera house and every where you've lived right?"

He glared at her, "right."

She closed her eyes, "Well in my time, thanks to your Persian friend, you're more than well known. It started with a man named Leroux, he wrote you're story with help from daroga. He always claimed that you were real, even though his novel ends in your supposed death. Not many believed him. Probably because his last declaration coincided with the release of the movie adaptation of his novel."

She opened her eyes to glance at his expression, it was set like granite. "that started a string of movies, some of which were worse than others. It wasn't until composer Andrew Lloyd Webber got his hands on the book that your fame grew. It started as a musical, attracting a rather large audience might I add. That's when the phan girls appeared and a phandom created. What really got the phan girls to show their colors was a movie that had every girl swooning at the music your character created. If I could convince the ring to give me an internet connection, which it stubbornly won't , you would see thousands of stories of people have written about you. Hundreds of sites where people heatedly debate Christine's faults and the fop's short comings. Everyday people wonder what it was that had you attracted you to Christine, why she made her decision, how do you turn back time, and what could she possibly see in a sniveling crybaby who uses more hairspray than a super model!"

She froze, she had screamed that last part. She mumbled an "I'm sorry" and dashed from the room.. She headed for the roof, she needed to clear her head.

He gritted his teeth, he followed her. She wasn't going to run away from him, he wanted answers now.

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**Please review!**


	10. The Plot Thickens

**Disclaimer: phantom not mine.**

A/N: Hey all I hope you all realize that today Phantom becomes the longest running show on Broadway! If not surprise! 7,384 performances baby! Any' hoz this chapter will be pretty long, I'm working on some stuff and look for a cameo chapter as soon as I work out the details! Enjoy!

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_**The Plot Thickens

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**_

Standing beneath Apollo's lyre, Tammy let the wind whip her hair forward. In the few months she'd been there her hair had grown to below her shoulder blades; which was wonderful because she'd always wanted long hair but it also sucked because her curls frizzed because of living next to an underground lake. The statue actually stood on a pedestal three feet above the roof that was a large strip of flat roofing before it slanted off at the sides nearly every square foot was covered in large statues. Her cloak billowed as she pulled the edges closer to try and ward off the chill of the November air. Staring out at the Parisian skyline, she was seemingly oblivious to the dark shadow looming over her.

She tucked a stray auburn curl behind her ear. Man, she really wished that had gone better, well smoother… and what was with the monologue? She only monologued when she was on stage. If she could do it again she would have made sure the first song he saw wasn't _Down Once More. _for the first time in her life she didn't feel like singing. She didn't even want to have the ring call up a whoopee cushion to place under Firmin's chair.

Erik glared at her from atop the statue. His amber gaze zeroed in on her face, normally she was easy to read (except when playing poker) now however it wasn't her expression that called him. She carried an air of sadness and loneliness, but also somehow she seemed more fragile then he'd ever imagined. When she barged in on his life he imagined nothing would stop this woman, not him or Carlotta, and certainly she was strong enough to never show weakness in front of him.

The most disturbing thing was that this weakness of hers seemed to call to him on an unexplainable level. Some basic instinct made him want to hide her from the world so only he could see her flaws, an over protectiveness that ran in his family ( until his mother).

He shook his head, she was just a kindred spirit, one who somehow understood his pain. She was a annoying nuisance who had come to live under his roof, and yet he almost took pleasure in the fact that she needed him. Besides she was his house guest and therefore untouchable. He was after all a gentleman. That and if he did try and cut her off from the outside world she would more than likely kill him, or drive him insane.

She sighed, "he just doesn't get it…"

He snapped out of his thoughts and silently watched as she paced, "then again I'm no gem either. Two hundred years in the past and I'm still making the same mistakes. You'd think I'd learn." she frowned and raised her arms in question, "how many times do I have to go through this? Huh?"

His eyes narrowed. Had someone hurt her in her time? What was she talking about? She leaned against the stone carvings tracing them with her fingers, "at first it's wonderful. The feeling of freedom, wonder, and joy. Then something always goes wrong I get lost and loose my footing. Clinging doesn't help for long. Then I get scared and lose hope. I eventually walk away but always with a feeling of trepidation. How do I fix this?"

His eyes followed her as she circled the pedestal. She stood with her back to him contemplating. He rose from his hiding spot and stood behind her.

"maybe I can be of service?" he said in that sensuous growl he was famous for. She jumped nearly three feet and would have fell off the granite surface if she hadn't grabbed his shoulders. Once she gained her balance she let go of him and scowled, "don't do that!"

He chuckled, "impossible, but what is it that has caused you to seek your refuge here on the roof?"

Her blue green gaze scanned the gray roof top and sighed, "life? Though it certainly threw me a screw ball this time."

He blinked, the question forming in his amber eyes. She beat him to answering, "it means I've gotten stuck in a pretty bad situation."

He lifted a brow, "and who put you in this situation?"

"myself," she sighed. "and some twisted plot hole in fate that loves to see me in this situation over and over again."

He placed his hands on her shoulders and caught her gaze with his own. "I don't know who's hurting you, but I promise he won't get away with it."

Her brows knitted, "wha…?"

"tell me who he is and I won't let him take a breath without regretting his actions…"

She blinked her blue green eyes confusedly, "who are…?"

"history shouldn't repeat itself…" he growled but was cutoff by her hand over his mouth. Her eyes narrowed, "what are you talking about? There's no he! There's not even a …"

She stared for an eternal moment before starting to giggle. Removing her hand forcibly by the wrist, he growled, "what is so funny?"

She started laughing harder her voice was becoming squeaky at this point, "you think that I… and a guy back in this time…oh that's great!"

He didn't laugh, "your point?"

She suppressed her giggles, "I'm not in any relationship trouble. How did you get that?"

He didn't like looking like a fool. Jerking his hands off her he glowered, "I heard nearly everything you said, history of mistakes, feelings of joy, and trepidation. I assumed…"

"and that's what you get for assuming," she smiled, "I was talking about my fear of heights and how I was stuck on this piece of art. For years I've been getting stuck in trees, on top of flag poles, my roof and other high places. My friends called it cat-stuck-in-a-tree-syndrome."

He blinked, "so no…"

"nope," she grinned. He frowned, "not even a…?"

"nada," she met his amber gaze again, "although I appreciate your concern it isn't needed. People come and go but fear is forever."

He stepped easily off the granite and turned to her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, he easily picked her up, his hands on her waist. She was lighter than he expected. Placing her on the roof top he captured one of her hands leading her to the door, "speaking of people, who are these 'phan girls' who talk about me in the future?"

"oh, inflating our ego now are we?" She lifted a brow. "basically they are girls all around the world in the future who think you're sexy. If you ever meet some more of them, besides me, you may never recover."

He turned to her, "what do you mean?"

She smiled her, as he termed it, alligator smile, "we tend to leave a lasting impression."

XxX

Erik gazed into the flames, he stood in front of the fire. He was dressed in his usual evening best. His night black suit was immaculate and his mask was firmly in place. A golden pin held a crimson cravat in place, and his dark cloak was swept behind him as her stood before the fireplace. The picture was one that would send all phan girls scrambling to get to him first.

She had returned to the lair latter them him stopping momentarily to scare the ballet girls. He had promised her that she could go to the opera with him, as long as she didn't interrupt him taking Christine home. As far as he knew she had no intention of doing any thing of the sort.

He wasn't sure what to make of her declaration this afternoon. The idea of being adored by one woman, let alone thousands, was completely foreign to him. Yet the proof was right there in front of him. Both in the music and the disk Tammy had called a DVD. He hadn't watched it yet. In truth he was almost fearful of how the movie would portray him. He would have to gather as much information as he could from her before actually watching it.

On the heels of that thought came the realization that if he was as widely known in the future, then there was a large probability that she would know what lies beneath his mask. He fists clenched of their own accord, how could she know and not tell him. How could she still stand to be near him, live with him, and still stand to look at him.

The door opened silently, he was lost in thought. A small clearing of her throat finally caught his attention He turned and found he couldn't breathe. Where had his energetic annoyance gone? His amber gaze traveled from head to toe and then back up.

She was dressed in a deep emerald green silk trimmed in black lace and embroidered in silver designs of Celtic origin. The corset-like top was formfitting to show off her thin waist and slender curves. Emerald silk draped down in a graceful skirt that reached the floor, a slit went up to her mid thigh on her right side, showing just a glimpse of her pale long legs. This creation didn't have long sleeves but instead was cut like her tank top with thick straps and modestly cut around the chest. She had black gloves and her ring. Around her upper arms was a black gossamer wrap. Her shoes were sliver sandals with a small heel. Her red curls had been brushed so they fell over her shoulders attractively. Silver teardrop earrings sparkled in contrast while a small thin black half mask framed her green eyes. She truly was her names sake, the siren of the lake. She smiled uneasily, "will I do?"

He blinked the adopted a frown, "where is your cloak? I don't want to be fighting off those male patrons who have more than a simple opera on their minds. Where did you get that thing?"

She grinned, "you really like it?"

He smiled, "yes I do. Now hurry or we'll be late."

She collected her cloak, and he offered her his arm. She was grinning from ear to ear, as he escorted her to the boat and across the lake. His nuisance had transformed. Before she was wild and uncontrolled, given to act on a whim. Now he was gazing at a calm, serene, and admittedly beautiful woman. She started singing softly yet with great enthusiasm, "_OOOOOH! I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts! There they are all sittin' in a row! Big ones, small ones…_." He wanted to retract that last statement, "Did you by any chance have any caffeine today?"

"not any more than the usual Erik." she grinned. He poled them across the lake. As they reached the other side and he got out and tied the boat to the dock. He turned and offered his hand. She placed her hand in his and stood to sort of hop/step out of the boat. He never noticed how long her fingers were, of course she was a pianist after all.

They quickly slipped through the dark corridors and paths to the hollow column next tow box five. He glanced through the screen and cursed, "those fools sold my box!"

She touched his shoulder, "let me handle this."

He slid open the door and watched as she entered the box. The young couple seemed oblivious to her as she positioned herself behind their seats. Her voice had a breathless quality, thin and whispery as if not truly there. She raised her arms stretched out wide as if offering her voice as she sang in a low hypnotic voice.

The young couple had noticedThe woman looked horrified and the man was captivated. Erik's gaze narrowed. Tammy continued to sing softy, her hands moved and swept, weaving a spell with her graceful movements that were more provocative than she may have realized.

The woman was begging to leave as Tammy pulled what looked like a silver dagger from her cloak. The man was entranced in her spell. She brushed her fingers along his cheek and spoke, "Listen to the girl, go and never come to this box again."

With that the woman tugged the man out the door. Tammy smiled, flipped the silver object over in her hand and pulled her glove off to file her nails. Erik stepped out of the pillar, "A nail file?"

She smiled and sat in one of the chairs pulling her glove back on , "It's an essential. Never know when you're going to need to impersonate a secretary."

He lifted a brow, sitting in the chair opposite hers, "in a gown?"

She laughed, "okay, so it sounds really stupid when you say it that way."

Pocketing the file she flicked open her black feather fan.

The first act opened with the usual flare and chorus of dancers and voices. He found it most entertaining , but he couldn't help but notice Tammy sitting there muttering to herself and every once and a while her opera glasses strayed from the stage to another box across the way. When Christine took the stage she was magnificent, until her eyes strayed to the same box his companion found so interesting. To say he was agitated was putting it mildly. When the curtain fell he turned on the redhead, "what is so fascinating about that box?"

She looked at him in surprise, "Oh, I guess you haven't met the fop yet."

"who?"

She smiled smugly, "finally I know something you don't! is this what it feels like all the time.."

"Just tell me!" he snapped. She blinked, "gosh Mr. Snarky, no need to get snippy. His name is Raoul and he is the Vicomte de Chagny. A.k.a. the fop in modern phan talk. Evidentially he knew Christine when they were kids, you could almost call them sweethearts," she laughed, "I'm sorry, but this is normally the part of the movie when you drop the set on Carlotta. Any'hoz, Raoul isn't the real physical threat. If your looking for the real muscle behind the Chagny name it would be tall dark and nose permanently stuck in the air. His name's Philippe, Raoul's older brother and destined to inherit the Chagny title, if he lives long enough."

Erik transferred his gaze to the box where the brothers were discussing various concerns, "he used to love my Christine?"

"un, yeah" she waved her hand in front of his face, "hello, did you miss the rest of my speech ? Raoul should be visiting your little ingénue after the second act. And it isn't used too, he still does."

His amber gaze swept from her, to the box. Back to her. His twisted mouth grinned, she paled, "I don't like that look Erik."

He adopted a thoughtful look, "well, I can't have that interfering boy or his brother interrupting my plans, and you look so ravishing in that dress…"

"Erik," she folded her arms over her chest, "if the next words out of your mouth are what I think they are you can forget it. I won't even pretend to know what's gotten into the exceedingly obsessed mind of yours, but I want no part of it."

She turned away in her chair, chin firmly raised. He frowned, "you do want back into the house tonight, right?"

"Oh no! that won't work on me," she shot a glare over her shoulder at him. "I know more than ten ways to get into your little house."

"I thought there was only nine." His brow furrowed, "how did you…"

"that's not the point," she snapped. "I will not play distraction. No matter how much you bargain or threaten."

XxX

She was going to kill him. Glowering she snapped her fan shut, her mask was hanging tied to her wrist. Standing in the shadows she warded off any men who thought they might fancy her with a deadly look. Keeping her eyes peeled for the brothers Chagny, she leaned against a wall and seethed. No private voice lessons were worth this.

Philippe, for all his no flirting with the under class, was standing across the room chatting with that Sorelli. The ballet rat looked so smug to have caught the eye of a count. Tammy realized Raoul must be in Christine's dressing room.

With a weary sigh she crossed the crowed room to position herself next to the door for when he came out. Halfway across the room she realized she was out in the open, she cursed. There were no shadows to blend in with here and the crowd was getting denser by the minute. Drat! She couldn't see Philippe anymore, Sorelli had walked off too. She strained to see above the crowd when some one grabbed her wrist, "what's a pretty lovely like you doin' 'ere?"

She snatched her wrist back and glared at the obviously inebriated man. He leered at her, "don't you talk my sweet?"

She pulled back her hand and took off her glove. Curling her fingers she let one fly. An upper cut that hit square in the jaw with a satisfying thud. He cursed and clutched his offended jowl. She smiled, pulled her glove back on, and politely curtsied before walking away. She had barely taken a step when the man gruffly sized her wrist again. With a sigh she turned back to him. His face was red from drink and anger and his jaw line was slowly turning purple. She rolled her eyes and pinched a tender pressure point by the collar bone, he crumpled easily releasing her.

She had caused a scene, she knew it. Someone grabbed her elbow and steered her away form the now whimpering man. For once she didn't struggle she just needed to get out of here. Once they were out of the crush she figured gratitude may be in order. He had brought her to stand outside Christine's dressing room.

"Thank you! That could have gotten ugly," she smiled. Turning she squeaked. Philippe smiled easily, his voice rumbled from his chest "Delighted I could help such an enchanting creature. Sorry if I startled you, Mademoiselle… "

"uh…Tamara Delarox." She glanced around nervously. "I don't believe we've met, um…"

"I am The Count Philippe de Chagny," he purred. He definitely conveyed an essence of nobility. He stood what she might guess to be about 6', he had dark brown hair and brown eyes. His clothing was well tailored, a black suit and midnight blue waist coat. The only thing that gave away the fact that he was more wealthy than other people attending was the sapphire pin holding his white cravat in place and the gleam of his Hessian boots. "Delarox, I don't believe I've heard that name before."

"yes well," She glanced at the door again. "My brother and I like to live in the country. We have a wonderful house by a lake. We don't normally like to come into the city but the upcoming Holidays demand it."

He lifted a brow, "sounds like your brother is over protective. Perhaps he doesn't wish you to meet any unsavory gentleman."

"Perhaps he just wishes to save them from me" she grinned, "I'm told people are never quite the same after they spend time in my company."

He laughed, "are you saying for a bit of free spirit?"

"depends, are you saying you're a rake?" she grinned, was she flirting? NO! Nonononononono! She was only being a distraction, she was loyal. He smiled at her, "A rake would ask to escort you to dinner."

She smiled back, "and a free spirit would throw caution to the wind and join said rake despite her overprotective brother."

"then shall we?" he offered her his arm, she placed her hand lightly on his sleeve. Feeling the hard muscles beneath her fingers she suppressed a gasp. Raoul trudged out of the room looking depressed. Philippe called, "Raoul, Come we're going to dinner. You can moon over that girl at another time."

He sulkily wandered over. Tammy's artistic side noticed that he shared Philippe's brown eyes but that was the only thing the brothers shared. While Raoul had the boyish features that were only beginning to mature, Philippe had features that looked chiseled like they were sculpted. Raoul's hair was a shade lighter and added to that persona of foppishness that he was famous for. Raoul looked at her but didn't seem to see her, this did wonders for her self esteem. She decided to smile any way, "Would you care to join us?"

His brown gaze snapped to her, though her smile never waned her gaze became as cold as ice. Raoul was momentarily stunned before falling dutifully inline behind his brother. She looked back at the door, her acute hearing barely picking up the sounds of Erik's voice above the sounds of the crush surrounding her.

Philippe placed his hand over hers, her head snapped back to him. His hand was warm an engulfed her hand easily, she smiled. He flashed her a rakish grin, "shall we my dear?"

She pulled her cloak closer to ward off a sudden chill, "we shall."

XxX

**Later that night after spending the evening at an upscale restaurant drinking fine wine, exchanging witty conversation, and whenever Raoul spoke up wishing she had a big baseball bat.**

She had been exiled to the couch. Not by will of course but by her weakness to his amber eyes. ALW had it right when he wrote the line, "those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore". She gave up her room and sanctity of privacy, so little miss angel could sleep in comfort, on her sheets and pillows.

With a growl she punched her pillow trying to get comfortable. It didn't seem to work until she pictured little Miss Daae in the pillow. Even then she didn't find satisfaction of punching helpless feathers. She wanted to hurt the real thing, when had she gotten so violent?

Also, what was with tonight? She wasn't sure what was going on, but there was something about Philippe she couldn't shake. At first she had chalked it up to her always wanting to meet an 18th century Noble, her passion for regency romance novels. Now she wasn't sure, he made her feel beautiful while Erik ignored her. He openly flirted with her instead look at her contempt. She wasn't sure of his intentions, but she knew how to protect herself if the worst happened. She just hoped the worst wouldn't come to pass.

With an agitated sigh she borrowed under the green comforter, borrowed for Miss Daae's stay. She needed sleep, even if Erik was an insomniac with his constant playing he new the value of sleep. Frustrated with her predicament she fell into a restless slumber.

**Next morning… **

She looked at peace, he thought. She was curled on the couch, red curls mused by sleep, dark lashes fluttered against her pale cheeks, and muttering something the sounded like "full sail and load the canons".

Hard to believe that this was the same person who made a game of terrorizing helpless ballet rats and insisting on spending time with him, the angel of darkness. A trait he almost found endearing. At this point in time she looked almost innocent…the key word being almost.

With out much further ado, he held her slender shoulders and shook her. Her eyes fluttered open, her green eyes still a bit dazed. She looked around and asked point blank, "why is the rum gone?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," he said rather gruffly releasing her shoulders. Her gaze became focused, and she pouted, "give me a break, not all people can be a morning person like you! I was just fighting those filthy treasure stealers on the Spanish main."

He ignored that last comment. "I need to go into town to fetch some items for Miss Daae."

She climbed out of her makeshift 'bed', "Let me guess. Last nights big wedding gown revel didn't go well. Maybe she isn't a fan of lace?"

He frowned, her sarcasm was duly noted, but he let it slide. "I need you to tend to her whims while I'm gone…"

"No."

He paused. Her tone hadn't been forceful, loud, or full of any anger at all. It was as if she was stating a fact that he should have known. Well two can play this game… "yes you will do what she asks. Make her breakfast, tea and toast will do, and help her as she goes about her day."

She sighed, "I get the feeling we've traveled down this path before. I will be no persons slave, Need I drag out the bag pipes again?"

He almost flinched. "Ah but our agreement the other night…"

"Alright!" she grabbed a dressing robe. "I'll play babysitter, but please get home soon."

She blinked sleepily, she looked disheveled from sleep, which he found almost endearing. With that he swept out of the house. Reassured that Christine was in good hands.

She watched the door close and the smile dropped from her face. Tightening the tie of her robe she grabbed the ring. It was time for some serious payback.

XxX

The brown haired beauty woke (beauty… yeah…. right) and sat up in bed. Finding a bell on the nightstand she rung it. Instantly a woman in green and black materialized by the bed, causing Christine to jump. "Well madam, we were wondering if you would ever wake. We'll be getting your breakfast now yes. Hope you like hot chocolate and French toast."

"it's mademoiselle," Christine smiled and reached for her gloved hand, "would you be a dear, and..."

The redhead snatched her hand away, her smile became strained, and her gaze became violent. "Don't touch me."

Christine blinked, her brow furrowed and her voice adopted a warning tone. "I'm…sorry?"

"You heard me." the woman's green eye's narrowed. "I tend to my masters whim to serve you, but not under any circumstances does that give you liberty to touch me or treat me as one of your servants _madam_."

Christine crawled out of bed and stood. Tammy had worn her boots so she had an unfair advantage over the five foot brunette. "It's mademoiselle."

"I know," the siren snapped. "and frankly you aren't deserving of that lofty title because it implies an innocence that you don't have."

"How dare you!" Christine squawked. "if you are to serve me, get me my breakfast and draw me a bath. If I am to order you around I should at least know your name."

"that is for authorized personal only and you don't have authorization." She redhead swept a mocking curtsy, "but, madam, if you must call me any thing call me siren."

The siren swept out of the room but heard a shrill voice "It's mademoiselle!"

She smiled and collected the French toast off the skillet, oops it got a little bit black. Dowsing the two pieces in maple syrup she added her favorite ingredient a little bit of dusted cinnamon, whoops I used the curry… ah well it should still taste the same. Now for that hot chocolate, nice warm and frothy. Let's just add a little whip cream and where did I put those sprinkles, here's some! What's that word on the label, laxative? Perfect! Setting it all on a tray she walked to the room humming to herself, by the time she got to her highnesses room she was singing to herself.

_Yet in his eyes  
all the sadness  
of the world . . .  
Those pleading eyes,  
that both threaten  
and adore . . ._

Depositing the tray she headed form the bathroom but not before singing one of her favorite songs from gypsy.

_You don't know this man,_

_I don't think you could._

_You come here with your horrifying stories_

_These contemptible conceits,_

_And you think you understand how a man's heart beats_

_But you don't know this man_  
Christine huffed at her meal, "you think you can stop singing?"

"I'm a siren get used to it!" She called. Grabbing a bucket she passed by Christine and headed out the front door, she wanted a bath she'd get one. Filling the bucket with ice cold lake water Tammy headed back inside to draw the royal bath. She filled the tub with lukewarm water, used three bottles of blue food dye, and covered that with white frothy bubbles courtesy of her magic ring. She left the bucket next to the tub it also sported a bubbly surface. "bath's ready! More warm waters by the tub."

Christine came in looking calm, "fine ."

Tammy saw the beginning of discomfort on the brunette's delicate features. Grinning evilly she flipped her curls, "by the way, Erik's ordered new chamber pots but they won't be here until this afternoon. He didn't tell me that until after I had disposed of the old ones. He said he'd go pick them up this afternoon. Hope this isn't a problem."

XxX

A shrill scream and yell of anguish cut through the air. Tammy went into panic mode, storming out of the room she opened the door with a slam. She looked like a fiery demon in the low light, her green eyes blazing at what she saw. Erik was on his knees before that wretched girl, his black mask in her hands. Incensed her voice took a low threatening shade that only came out when she was past angry. "Erik, have some self respect for once and your life and get off that floor! I don't ever want to see you kissing this woman's, and I use the term woman very loosely, feet ever again. You are better than that, no matter what you think of yourself and your face."

Her gaze zeroed in on the honey-eyed girl, who was sporting a lovely deer in the headlights look. "And you. I want you OUT! NOW! You will be allowed back when we deem fit. I do not CARE if you don't know the way back. Go to the Louis-Phillipe room, go outside, go ANYWHERE! If you are in my sight for two more seconds, I will not be able to control myself, and your safety is not high on my to-do list."

Christine looked hesitant until Tammy clenched her teeth and hissed, "NOW!" She scampered past the angry redhead handing over the mask and leaving a depressed phantom on the floor. Tammy closed her eyes and slowly let the tense muscles relax, her teeth and fists unclench, and taking a few deep breaths; opening her eyes she walked over and kneeled before Erik. He refused to meet her gaze his head bowed, she sighed, "Erik, talk to me. I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to, but…."

"Why…" he whispered. Smartly she shut up. "Why did she need to know? Why does anyone need to know? You didn't need to know!"

She blinked, and put the mask in her lap, "your right that I didn't need to know, but I did know. I knew before you met me."

He was silent. She scooted closer and framed his face in her hands. Lifting his chin she met his gaze, "it's hard to see if any of this is getting through to you if you won't look at me."

He grabbed her wrists pulled them away from his face and he stood dragging her to her feet. He glared at her, releasing her he advanced. She took a step back, "Do I disgust you? Fill you with loathing at my face?"

He stepped again and out of instinct she stepped back surprise clearly written on her face. "No, why…"

He kept up his path, driving her back. "Do you fear me then? Do you wish to leave and never look on me again."

She gasped, "Never! I…"

The cold hard stone surface of the fireplace met her back. Clenching his fists on the mantle he trapped her between him and the fireplace. He sneered down at her, "Perhaps you see me as someone to be pitied. Do you tremble when I enter a room?…"

"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M SCARED!" She snapped. "honesty Erik, I'm not Christine. Don't you ever compare me to her! Unlike her I see past the mask and your face. There is more to you than a piece of fabric, porcelain, or whatever! I know there's a composer, magician, architect, artist, but most of all a man. A man so passionate about his work that I weep outside his door because he won't let me in to appreciate it to it's fullest. A man who has gone through things I can't imagine, yet he is still one of the most intelligent men I've ever met. However you limit yourself by having your happiness depend on the opinion of one brown eyed singer, who by the way was making googoo eyes at Raoul all last night.

"In my opinion I hate your mask, almost as much as you do. It's a barrier between you and the rest of the world. I know it's tempting to keep that so you won't be hurt, won't be mocked, and you keep that air of deceit that people don't see you. If you do keep it up without stop you will not experience the joys of feeling the wind in your face while galloping across the countryside, the warmth of sunshine on a summers day, or the hot tears of when you find that person who loves you because of your passion and your flaws.

"I know what it's like to wear a mask."

He glared at her, "how could you possibly know?"

She bowed her head, "I may not wear a physical mask, but I've worn an emotional mask for years. I can't be hyper, funny, or calm and sarcastic all the time. That is my mask! I hurt and I cry but I hide it with cold indifference or write it off with a joke. I know it's not the same, but just as you've been trapped down here I've been blind and in my own world."

She lifted her gaze and met his. He saw what he thought was pleading, truth, and something he couldn't tell. She handed him his mask. "I won't wear my mask around you if you grant me the same courtesy. I want to know the real you, and I will show you the real me. I'll be in the rose room if you need me."

She ducked under his arm and strode out of the room.

He gazed at the door as it closed. Then he glanced at his mask and turned it over in his hands. For what seemed like an eternal minute he stared at the black prison. She hated it, and didn't mind his face. Her truths rang through his mind. His expression hardened. Tossing the mask on the bench he followed her.

The house was empty, she could split really quickly. He yanked open the front door, the boat was on the other side of the lake already. He went the long way around the lake. Swiftly navigating the corridors he found the door. He opened it a crack. She was curled on the couch in a multi colored blanket the small table was filled of brightly colored wrapped stuffs that looked like those reeses things. She sighed hung her head and pushed a button on the laptop causing it to spring to life.

He entered silently, she looked up. He bowed, "Mademoiselle may I have the honor of introducing myself. I am Erik, opera ghost extraordinaire."

She smiled, stood with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, and curtsied. "enchanted to meet you Monsieur, I am Tamara. Might I be so bold to ask you to join me?"

"what would I be joining you in?" he sat on the couch. She grinned, "drowning our problems in sugar and watching some of my favorite movies."

Tapping the space bar a fog filled scene off a passing ship filled the screen. He grabbed a package of those Reeses things and settled in. "what movie is this?"

"It's Pirates of the Caribbean," she opened a pint of dove chocolate ice cream. "Starring, by my opinion, one of the last and most truly brilliant actors in Hollywood, Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. He's one of the last actors in the movies that are truly acting, he is never the same from movie to movie."

"fascinating," he commented, "By the way what did you do to get rid of the Chagny brothers last night? You came in late last night."

"oh," she grabbed an oreo. "Philippe stopped me from nearly killing a guy last night. We got to talking, he invited me to dinner. I agreed and he dragged his brother away from Christine's door. We went to the lovely little restaurant down the street, it was nice." she coughed over this last part, "andhewantstoseemeagainverysoon."

Erik frowned, "I'm sorry I think my hearing must be going. Did you just say you went to dinner with this count, and he wants to see you again? What were you thinking!"

She huffed, "Man Erik, you have over protective issues. It's not like I agreed to marry him. He's only a puppet to keep Raoul out of the way. I didn't come almost 200 years back in time to fall in love and get married. That's stuff of romance novels, I'm not here for that."_ Geez,_ she thought. _Who was she trying to convince him or herself?_

With that she fell silent while eating her ice cream. Erik stared at her for a moment, decided arguing would be pointless and repetitive, and proceeded to much his chocolate in silence. That evening Tammy introduced him to not only pirates but Timeline, Zorro, Star Wars, and Batman. He was fascinated most by Star wars. He wanted to know how to make one of those laser swords, how could they film in space, who was this obi wan fellow?

Tammy however, couldn't answer his questions because she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Carefully he woke her enough for her to walk back to the lair where she dived onto the couch. Despite what she said earlier he had a nagging suspicion that she wasn't telling all the happened with the count. He didn't want her to leave, not yet.


	11. This chapter has no title because the Au

**Disclaimer: Phantom not mine. Nope sorry, but thanks for asking.**

**A/N:** Hey all you people out there! Guess what? I'm calling for Cameos. That's right. I fell behind on my stories over December but I'm working hard to catch up. So the cameo chapters will be taking place during November, and if all of you are good and review I might let you stay for Christmas! See info on the bottom of the chapter to see what needs to be included in your review to get a cameo! You'll have about a week to send them in. so enjoy the chapter!

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_**This chapter has no title because the Authoress's brain melted because of the evil creation of finals

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**_

A depressed sigh came from the other end of the table. Philippe peered over his paper to see Raoul at the other end of the mahogany table swirling his fork in his breakfast of eggs and toast. Philippe rolled his eyes and set the paper aside. Valmont, a distinguished looking gentleman with a full head of gray hair, stepped forward with the day's mail on a silver tray. Valmont had been on staff since Philippe was still in short coats. Philippe flipped through the stack and casually addressed his brother, "what is it that could have you so depressed on this fine morning?"

Raoul shifted his attention from his eggs, "and what could have you so insufferably cheerful?"

Philippe found the letter he was looking for, he pocketed the missive before stating his retort. "what else? The opera was one of the best this season, Sorelli performed wonderfully, and Mademoiselle Delarox was delightful company."

Raoul rolled his eyes, "and how long do you plan to spend with this one?"

"excuse me?" Philippe's eyes narrowed at his little brother.

Raoul sat up starter, an instinctual reaction to his brothers glare. "I just want to know when I need to be prepared to comfort some poor soul after you break their heart."

"this one is different."

"How?" Raoul challenged.

Philippe growled, "besides the fact that Tamara is engaged. If you came out of your moody silence at all last night you would have heard her speak. She isn't normal in any sense of the word. She is opinioned, and more than that she argued with me over the effectiveness of a monarchy versus that American ideal of democracy. I'm just showing her the city until she returns to the country."

Raoul blinked, "Since when did she give you leave to use her Christian name?"

Philippe's expression darkened as he stood and strode from the room, "Finnish your breakfast and I will see you in my study. Consider this conversation over."

Raoul's gaze lingered on the door for a few seconds. Either his brother was serious or someone was impersonating him. Wishing to get this morning over with, he placed his napkin on the table and exited. Walking down the hall way he paused slightly to glance at the portraits of his ancestors. The somber looks and general looks of disapproval gazed down at him, even though the men and woman were gone Raoul still felt their criticism over what he did. It was hard to live up to the Chagny name. Philippe on the other hand seemed to have no problem living with this burden.

That was the difference between him and his brother. Raoul lived hoping not to make any mistakes and disappointing the family. Philippe, on the other hand, seemed to have inherited the family air of nonchalance and power. Nothing really seemed to phase the elder man. Raoul often looked the part of a fool, compared to his brother the most distinguished gentlemen of the ton became void of any intelligence. One thing in common with these two was that they both enjoyed a good party, as long as they avoided the matchmaking mama's of young social climbers. They had avoided the alter at all costs, well until Raoul found Christine again.

Keeping the fact that he fell in love with a poor stage performer from his brother was taxing. Avoiding him had been the best thing so far, but living in the same house they were bound to run across each other sometime. He just thanked his lucky stars that Philippe was distracted by this new arrival.

Far sooner than he would have wished Raoul reached the dark mahogany doors of Philippe's private study. With a fleeting farewell to a peaceful morning he pushed open the door.

XxX

"ERIK!" Christine's voice cut through the quiet like a chainsaw. Sitting in the main room, Tammy felt a twitch develop under her eye. Giving up on folding laundry in peace she pulled out a notebook from under the seat cushion. Pulling out a pencil she started writing in her messy scrawl.

_Day Six of Christine torture, she still hasn't discovered she is blue. Erik asked about it the other day and I told him that she was sensitive on the subject because the ballet rats did it to her it was just hard to see when he brought her here because it was so dark. I know it's wrong to blame the rats but I fear for consequences if he finds out what truly happened. She smells like fishy lake water, Ayesha has become semi-permanently attached to her leg. Padded Erik's door with pillows so he was oblivious to Queen playing all last night. I called her smurfett yesterday but she didn't get it. Typical. Reminder to self: place fencing equipment under her mattress tonight, think of more smurf jokes to make fun of Christine, and get supplies for water balloon fight. _

"ERIK!" Tammy snapped her book closed. She couldn't plan like this she had to get out soon. It was a good thing Philippe invited her to the horse auctions. Her hearing, sharpened by years of being a musician, picked up Erik's deep rumble from down the hall, "What is it, mon cher?"

"look what you're demented servant did!"

"what did she do exactly?"

She could practically see Christine blink like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm BLUE!"

"It wasn't the ballet rats…"

"of course not they love me!"_ Lies! All Lies!_ she thought stashing her book away. Loud resounding footsteps echoed down the hallway. She took her cue to exit stage right. Ducking behind a partition, setup for her to change behind while Christine was here, she quickly undid the laces of her dress. Lame excuse she knew but it was the only way she could guarantee he wouldn't strangle her. Striping off the dress she threw it over the partition and grabbed a corset to tie over her chemise.

"TAMARA!" Erik barged into the room. She held out a pale hand beyond the screen to stop him, "kind of busy!"

He halted about a foot away, glaring at the barrier he sat on her makeshift bed, seething. He heard a kind of squeak behind the screen. Her voice was strained, "What can I help you with?"

He lifted a brow, "_You_ were the one that turned Christine blue? I thought I told you not to touch her."

There was a sound of rustling fabric and of discomfort, her voice rose a tad higher, " I didn't touch her. I haven't laid a hand on her. Ask her yourself! I told her under no circumstances was she to touch me, and I wouldn't touch her."

_What is going on back there?_ His brows knitted. "Are you all right?"

"Just…"the red partition fell to the ground with a crash. Her blue green eyes wide, Tammy stared at the fallen barrier. She Turned her head and met Erik's amber gaze. Her voice faded to a strangled squeak, "…peachy."

Her red hair was draped over her shoulders, and her eyes were wide with surprise. Her soft mouth was shut in a tight line. She held the corset close to her chest the white cotton chemise hugging her curves. He averted his eyes with a hiss, "please make you're self decent."

She blushed, "Ok, first off I showed more skin in my tank top and shorts the other day. Secondly ," she held the corset out in disgust. "This torture device isn't designed to be put on by one person."

"I see what you mean," He looked at the offending piece of clothing. She looked at him hopefully, "Could you help? I have to meet Philippe soon."

His amber gaze grew violent as he moved to stand behind her. His voice grew low and clipped, "You're meeting him?"

She rolled her eyes and handed him the strings to her corset, "Come on Erik! It is an innocent visit, we're going to the horse auctions. I love riding horses, and he needs a few more stallions for his stables. Raoul's coming as a chaperone (that should give me the perfect opportunity to use this itching powder I'm dying to use),and it gives you the perfect opportunity to take Christine back to the opera…..meep…too tight…can't breathe! OXYGEN! O2 please!"

He looked down and realized he had pulled the corset so tight her waist shrunk to the point where he probably could encircle it with just his hands. Loosening the string he heard her gasp at fresh air, "thank you! Unlike those narrow-minded-air headed socialites up there I don't want to die of oxygen deprivation and having my internal organs implode. Got a ribcage."

He tied the thin strings and she pain fully stretched lifting her arms over her head, "thanks. Besides I think he saw my ring the other day and believes I'm engaged."

Erik sat back on the settee, "How can you women stand to wear those things?"

She shot him a green eyed glare, "Oh, I don't know to make us more appealing to the other half of the population of this small rock circling the sun who doesn't seem to notice us until after they hit puberty. HOW THE HECK AM I SUPOOSED TO KNOW! We didn't have these things in my time." She grabbed a dark red morning dress. Holding it up to herself she faced him, "The only corset you see then will be in museums and period costumes. What do you think, is the neck line to low?"

He shook his head, "the pains you put into your appearance."

"Speaking of appearances," Tamara pulled the dress over her head and laced up the front. "You promised me to keep the mask off in front of me. Christine won't be out her room till she's not blue anymore."

He stood, fists at his side he looked down at her. Amber met aquamarine, he hissed. "No, I don't care what promise I made you."

She placed a hand on her hip and poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Excuse me, I honored our agreement as being your servant for a whole week. I haven't finished my sentence, but I will. And I expect you to do the same. If you're willing to hold someone to a bet then you better _(poke)_ keep _(poke)_ your _(poke)_ promise _(poke)_!"

He grabbed her wrist, "don't do that."

"don't make promises you won't keep. You spent an afternoon with me without it , why not know?"

He sighed. She wasn't going to back down. He turned away from her and pulled his off his black prison. Turning it over in his hand, he placed it on the side table. She had to be the most confusing creature at times. She sat on the settee, attempting to untangle her long red locks, which he now noticed were much longer than when she arrived. An idea formed in his mind, "You are still my servant for three more days, am I correct?"

"Yeah so?" She held up a hand mirror he had bought for her. Lifting the back of her hair to pile on top of her head, she frowned at the style. "there something I can help you with tex?"

"Might I inquire if you would…"

"No I won't stand up Philippe, clean Christine's room, or install indoor plumbing for a shower just because it's so cool." She let down her hair, cocking her head to the side she smiled. He blinked, "what's a shower?"

"it's like taking a bath, only you're standing up and the water falls on you." She set the mirror aside, "It's sort of like a private controlled rain storm minus the sixteen gigawatt lightening strikes."

"ah," he folded his arms across his chest. "I actually wasn't going to inquire you for anything like that. But now that you mention it, could…"

"no I won't stand up Philippe, no matter how much you dislike him." She picked up a pair of soft leather boots, they had a smaller heel than her future pair, and pulled them on. "what do you really want?"

"Fine," he leaned against the settee. "may I borrow your ring ."

She paused and glanced up from lacing her boots, genuinely surprised, "can't understand why you'd want it. I'll give it to you on one condition."

He tried to look innocent, the effect was minimal. "what, may I ask is that?"

She pulled off her ring and handed it to him, "you won't try and bring back any gliders, planes, and or other flying objects. Please do me the favor and leave technical evolution to itself."

He glared, so much for that plan. He took the ring, his long fingers brushing hers, "as long as I can use it for my experiments."

Her aqua gaze widened, "as long as you don't break it, remember I don't even know what's tying me to this century, I believe it may just be that ring."

Pocketing the ring he turned to look at the mantel clock, "what time will you be back?"

She laid her book to the side. "some time around five. Now if you excuse me I have to finish getting ready. Philippe will meet me at the café near the corner across from the front door of the opera house."

She stood and searched for her jewelry box. Her tracked her with his gaze, She held up a silver necklace and struggled to clasp it. He stood and crossed to her, "you _will_ be careful. I don't want to have to come to your rescue just because I was right about that Comte what's-his-name."

She re-clasped the chain behind the nape of her neck and sighed, "you know you really are playing the part of an older brother perfectly. Can't you just trust me? I have a very good jerk-o-meter, in tiptop condition. If anything doesn't feel right I can guarantee that I will be back here before you can say stuck up Prima Donna. "

She grabbed her black cloak and threw it around her shoulders. Adjusting the red and silver broach holding it in place she smiled, " I over heard Firmin telling Monchrim that Carlotta would do wonderfully in the next performance of Carmen … I mean just because their rising star has gone missing."

He suddenly felt a head ache coming on, "Fine. I'll return Christine... Tomorrow. Just be careful and use the Rue Scribe entrance, remember…"

"make sure the street is clear before leaving, if I think anyone is following me ditch 'em, and that means anything goes. Madam Giry knows I'll be gone so if I'm in any trouble come through the opera house, and if somehow gravity decides to turn it's self off grab onto something that won't move." she smiled at him, "don't worry, I didn't grow to become the accomplished fully capable twenty five year old you see before you by being stupid. Relax and enjoy an afternoon with your music and muse in the same house, maybe you can fix that noise she makes."

He lifted a brow, "what noise?"

She hugged him goodbye before reaching for the door, "her voice."

XxX

Philippe gazed out the window of the black covered carriage at the café. An older woman wrapped her shawl tight around her to ward of a sudden breeze. It was unusually sunny for the second day of November, but still a chill nipped the air with a promise of snow to fall soon. It was, probably, the last day anything could be held outside on the streets of Paris before people retired to their country estates to await the next season. The Chagny's were one of the few noble families that had decided to stay in the city for the holiday festivities. Mainly because of their patronage to the opera, but also because Philippe had decreed it so.

Raoul sat across from his brother on the black seat, the weather outside contrasting with his mood profoundly. Arms folded across his chest, and muttering dark curses he found time to reflect on his lot in life. And so far by doing that he only grew more depressed. His brother was as bad as a tyrant, the love of his life didn't know he existed, and to top it all off he was playing chaperone on one of his brothers more questionable affairs. He wasn't even at his families ancestral home for the festivities. So life was just peachy.

Philippe checked his pocket watch for what seemed the tenth time in the span of five minutes. Glancing out at the street he finally had had enough of Raoul's curses. He snapped, "are you going to be this unpleasant all afternoon?"

"are you going to drag me along on every time you try and court a young woman, who happens to already been spoken for?" Raoul retorted. Philippe glared daggers across the coach before retuning his brown gaze to the street. A small pale figure in black and scarlet was outside the little café looking at the sign and checking her reflection. Smiling he stepped out of the coach and out on to the sidewalk, the heels of his Hessian boots clicking along the cobblestone.

She turned and flashed him a brilliant smile. His gaze raked her from head to toe, yes the man who had claimed this aqua eyed beauty was a lucky man indeed. "how nice to see you again. I do hope to find you well," Offering his arm he smiled, "Shall we mademoiselle?"

"We shall." She placed her left hand on his sleeve, he immediately noticed the lack of a certain sparkling piece of jewelry. He refocused his gaze on her face, "Where is you ring, I wouldn't want your fiancé to think you lost it."

Inwardly she flinched, of course Erik had to borrow her ring. Manipulative shadowed geniuses always have to complicate things. If she told him the truth, her label of untouchable fiancé would be lifted. Leaving her open for his courting and not to mention keeping up her façade would become incredibly hard. Coming up with a convincing lie however wasn't her style, she hadn't been able to fool Erik and she had a sinking suspicion that Philippe was just as smart. He probably had one of those blasted genealogy books of the French noble families, sometime the temptation will become strong enough to make him not want to resist the urge to crack it open. Plus he could always want to search her out in the gossip column or marriage announcements, finding none he would demand an answer. Meeting his gaze she decided she might as well tell the truth since he'd probably find out anyway, "what on earth are you talking about? I have no fiancé. I'm currently and plan on remaining, at least till I have at least one small adventure, single. The ring was something I found at this adorable little shop near Perros."

"Really?" Philippe quirked a brow, Tammy saw the glint in his eye that she couldn't place. All she knew is it suddenly seemed very warm for a November day. Strange she hadn't felt this before, normally she only felt this way around Erik. Surely it would pass, this would only be her fling in the past. He placed his free hand over hers, keeping it firmly in place on his sleeve. "how very interesting. Surely you will grant me the full story on our way."

She cast a longing glance back down the alley from which she came. Life was complicated and fate seemed to think of her as it's new favorite plaything. With a prayer sent heavenwards she coyly smiled at Philippe. "I'd be honored."

XxX

Erik lounged in his chair, black mask back in its place. Christine had refused to leave her room. That left him with an afternoon to waste. He normally would compose, but he was feeling very uninspired at the moment. Twirling the small ring in his long fingers he considered. A ring in similar design would look lovely on Christine. Pale colors always flattered her, brought out a sparkle in her eye that he loved. Pastels like pink and blue also gave her an innocent look he adored. Gazing at the diamond he was almost memorized by the fine cut that made the precious stone seem to almost glow with a light from it's center. He couldn't have made a better ring if he had designed it him self. It reminded him so much of his beloved angel. (Authoress: (rereads paragraph) I think I'm gonna hurl! Erik: Oh do shut up! Besides you wrote it! Authoress: Against my will!)

Tammy was completely different then his angel. Instead of innocence she had a distinct air of experience. She could be as sarcastic and distant as he was, but when she let down her guard she was strange and oddly endearing. Of course she wasn't cruel and heartless, in fact he had the suspicion that she might actually care for him. He scoffed at that thought, she more then likely saw him as her protector, if any thing he was just her guardian.

Yet for all his speculations and observations he barely knew a thing about her. He ran a finger over the ring, tracing the diamond. If this trinket fetched her every whim why couldn't it work for him?

He leaned forward and gripped the ring in the palm of his fist. What to ask for? The possibilities were practically endless. He could ask for items he hadn't even fathomed could exist. Fantastical things that won't exists for years possibly centuries.

The thing he was most interested in, however, were these "phangirls". He wanted to meet these women, Tammy claimed to be a phan, but he couldn't draw conclusions from just one "phan". Letting his mind wander he formed a visual of what he figured a group of phangirls would look like. He didn't have much to go on, seeing as Tammy was the only phan he had ever met. But he imagined they might look like some of the singers in the chorus, except from what he interpreted from Tammy they were much different. They couldn't be all that diff….

He heard footsteps from out side the hall. He snapped back to reality, perhaps Christine wanted a lesson.

More footsteps resounded from the hall. Hushed voices were talking quickly outside the door, they were definitely feminine but it wasn't Christine's higher pitched voice. These voices were closer to Tammy's and it sounded like there were a lot of them.

Erik grabbed his Punjab, he had intruders.

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Short chapter I know. But bear with me finals just about killed me and my Seahawks are going to win tomorrow and I can't write while rooting for my team.

Okay here's the deal. If you want a cameo you have to include the following information on your review.

1. Name (it could be user name or not, just put what you want to be called)

2. Description (both you and your outfit)

3. Weapon (DBCA special: there will be fop torture if I can fit it in Erik: (shoves authoress aside) there will be fop torture or someone will pay!)

4. Present for Erik (the more creative the longer the appearance!)

5. Favorite dark cloaked Character (For those non DBCAians this includes Batman, Zorro, Jack Sparrow, Snape and others. NO OTHER ERIK'S, he's still dealing with the shunned by the world thing don't make him have an identity crisis too!)

Remember this will be a multi chapter cameo appearance. So creativity counts. To my reviewer who wanted me to include Tom Riddle, um I don't do crossovers but I'll make sure he's mentioned.

P.S. sorry for not replying to reviews. I'm such a bad authoress I've just been dealing with a lot of junk in my life and I will respond to reviews this time. Promise!


	12. Invasion

**Disclaimer: after a while this gets really old, ya know? (Sigh) but if it is necessary then it must be important… Yeah right! (brings out puppets that look suspiciously like her and Erik) This is me (waves Authoress puppet) And this is Phantom! (Waves Erik puppet). Still with me? Good! This is me not owning Phantom (Authoress puppet starts to cry). Aw, see how sad I am? ( Erik puppet awkwardly pats Authoress puppet on the head, supposedly to be a comforting gesture.) (Real Erik enters)_ What on earth are you doing? _(Hides puppets behind back) Nothing!**

**A/N:**OK. Here's the deal, I know have eight lovely pages on word that are filled with Cameos! This chapter is only an introduction to the chaos yet to come. I'm working on all of the cameo chapters so don't be alarmed if you don't see you're name in this chapter, Everyone will be used in the story! Which by the way I'm still accepting cameos so don't feel as if you missed out if you didn't review. So enjoy this chapter and please Review!

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**_Invasion_**

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She should have lied. Tammy pat the neck of a good tempered chestnut mare. It had been the first time she had been out of Philippe's sight all day. She knew she had claimed to like men who were possessive and made sure every one knew that the women they loved were theirs. Now, however, she doubted what he felt for her was love. She wanted to go back to the lair, back to a quiet evening with Erik. No more meeting new people, no more feeling trapped in conversations, and no more being so goodie-goodie too shoes nice! What she wouldn't give to have a rapier, honey, and feathers right about now.

"Tamara," a deep voice rumbled from behind her. Surpassing the urge to pick up the nearest sharp object she plastered a pleasant smile on her face before turning to face her escort. "Monsieur, I believe I saw a pair of the most beautiful looking black Arabians on the other side of the market."

"How many times must I tell you to call me Philippe?" He took her hand and guided her away from her quiet companion. "We will see them in due time, first I want you to meet a friend of the family."

"Oh. Can't we just send our regards in the form of a lovely letter later" Tammy knew if it was one more old woman and her husband she just might crack. She normally got along with nearly every person she met, thus was the advantage of being an actor, but this many people in one day was fraying her already taught nerves. Hopefully she would do a good job faking a headache and she would be able to go home soon.

He chuckled, "Creative solution, mon cher, but I would surely hear no end to it if we don't at least touch fingers."

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, "I'm not your dear." They made their way to a small group of people. For the first time that day Tammy was surprised, instead of the distinguished matrons of the ton they were her age. Raoul stood opposite them looking as somber as ever. Dressed in the highest fashions of the day, two gentlemen, one fair in coloring the other much darker, were chatting amiably with each other about what sounded like a new business venture. Their dates, both blondes possibly related, looked almost as bored as she was. Philippe quickly began the introductions. "MM Gabriel Rousseau & Tristan Auclair and the Mlles Rachelle & Nicolette Devereux. Monsieurs and Mademoiselles may I present Mademoiselle Tamara Delarox."

The green eyed fair haired gentleman (Gabriel) took her hand and bowed over it, "Enchanted, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," She smiled. Tristan took her hand next murmuring his greeting, all the while his steely gaze swept her face looking for what she guessed would be familiarity. She glanced at Philippe who was watching his friends closely. Almost as if…

A tiny switch in the back of her brain flipped her light bulb on. He wouldn't… but all of the people she met. OH! He was creative! He must have drove himself insane trying to find her name in the books or papers. Hard to find someone when they didn't exist. The only written document of her existence in this time was a small scrap of paper threatening a Spanish diva, and even then no one could link it to her. For no one had seen The Siren let alone known her true name.

Ruthlessly she suppressed the wolfish grin that threatened to grace her features and just settled for a smile. A little to brightly she addressed the two women, now clearly twins, "wonderful to meet you. It's hard to believe we haven't crossed paths before. None the less, I was just telling Philippe of these wonderful Arabians on the other side of the market. Shall we?"

She left Philippe's side to join the young women who had identical faces of confusion. Tammy smiled, she just might get some entertainment out of this afternoon after all.

Philippe watched her lead off the two women, his gaze focused on her until she had disappeared in the crowd. Gabriel was the first to speak, "She is an interesting creature?"

Philippe glowered, "interesting or not I haven't the faintest clue who she is."

Tristan raised a dark eyebrow, "you? The man at the center of all the most interesting scandals, not to mention the most informed man on the face of this earth, does not know who a simple woman is? I find this surprising."

Gabriel frowned, "didn't you try the papers and all those books you insist on keeping around?"

Philippe solemnly nodded, his friends were not doing him the slightest bit of help at the moment. He had been up all night tearing through every book he could find but none of them mentioned a Delarox of any kind. If her father, brother, or any of her ancestors for that matter had done anything notable at all it would have been somewhere.

Her brother brought up an interesting dilemma in itself. For being the overly protective man that Tamara painted him as he wasn't around her often. He had never met the man yet she spoke of him in the most fondest terms if the subject was ever brought up. The fact was that this man was hardly ever brought into conversation, but from what Philippe gathered her mysterious brother was a man not to be crossed. His age was never mentioned but Philippe imagined him as an older man, perhaps in his forties. What bothered Philippe the most was that her brother seemed to dislike society with a passion and wished his sister to adopt the same ideals.

This brought him back to the crux of the problem, the woman herself. He had never heard anyone speak like her and she seemed fairly experienced for living most of her life in the country. She carried an aura of haughtiness and sophistication like a cloak, if you had a moment to just talk with her you would see she was much more intelligent and quick then you would first perceive. Yet with all of this he knew of her he had the nagging suspicion that their was much more to her than this, her background was as mysterious as the lady herself. She was challenge personified and he loved a good challenge.

Tristan clasped Philippe's shoulder, bringing him back from his thoughts. "do call us if you find yourself in any trouble with this one."

Philippe grunted ,"as long as I find out who she is, and you sirs," He glared knowingly at his two closest friends. "would do best to keep your hands to yourselves."

Gabriel grinned, "Honestly Philippe we're not the ones with half of the ton after us for that tiny mishap with that Duclaire girl."

"yes," Tristan agreed. "well only have to steer clear of her family for the rest of our lives, and her reputation was salvaged before any real damage was done."

Philippe momentarily reflected on the excitement of last year with the "Cinderella Bet". It was far better than his comrades made it out to be, he had smoothed things over with the Duke and Duchess.

He scowled, sometimes he was just too nice of a man.

XxX

Erik narrowed his gaze at a group of what appeared to be oddly clad girls currently enthralled with his pipe organ. He had stealthily followed them to this room, making sure his presence wasn't known, and now they were clustered around the instrument like a pack of wolves. One of them, a tall with dark brown black hair tied back into a half pony tail and green-blue eyes, leaned closer to examine the theatrical organ. She was dressed in black pants and swallowtail jacket. Her crimson shirt was a stark contrast to the rest of her dark outfit, the silver buttons on her waistcoat and the silver cross around her neck shone in the flickering candle light. She straitened and addressed the girl next to her, "if we were ever in any doubt as to where we are that" She gestured to the organ. "would confirm any suspicions."

The slender blonde, about equal to the brunettes height if not a few inches taller, turned to her and raised a brow, "Roxanne, I don't think there was ever any doubt to where we are," She zipped her gray jacket closed hiding the teal shirt underneath. She shivered, "the cold alone could have told you that."

Roxanne scoffed, "well maybe, Sheridan, you wouldn't be so cold if you hadn't worn flip-flops and jeans instead of something sensible."

Sheridan wiggled her pink toes before glaring at her friend, "well, excuse me for not expecting to sucked into a black time traveling vortex while going to get the mail."

The two girls traded quips until it caught the attention of the other members of their group. A dark blonde, whose hair was braided, in high heeled boots, black leather pants, and black tank top took charge of the situation. Unzipping her black bag she pulled out a long belt, cinching it around her waist she pulled out a few small shiny objects that looked incredibly sharp. She regarded the two girls over the rims of her glasses, "Are you two done? If you haven't noticed we are in a little bit of a situation."

The two girls met her hazel gaze before falling silent. Both reluctantly giving up the fight. Placing her bag on the floor she smiled, "that settled, it's clear to me we have three options."

"And, Rebecca, they would be?" A raven hared girls with red streaks asked. She was one of the few cloaked girls in the, as he now termed 'pack'. Her cloak was a black with red lining. The red distinguished her black trousers and forest green long sleeved shirt. The most interesting part of her outfit had to be the silver embroidered snakes that twisted up her arms and met just below her collar bone. The silver heads faced each other mouths opened and teeth bared , as if one was daring the other to try and strike first.

Rebecca bristled for a moment, "I was getting to it Ashe. We can either a) find Erik and glomp him to a hearts content, b) find the fop and put our weapons to good use, or c) try and figure out how the heck we got here."

"Time to vote" Sheridan leapt onto the organ bench. "all in favor of a, finding Erik and glomping him?"

To Erik's horror every hand went up without a moments hesitation. He didn't know what glomping meant but it couldn't be good. Clearly out of his field of expertise he turned to leave. He was about to run for it when Sheridan's voice carried over the crowd of excited whispers. "All wishing to have our own fop hunt in which we may torture and maim?"

Once again every hand went up, only this time a ripple of excitement was clearly seen as each girl pulled out their own weapon.

Roxanne stepped forward, "clearly we don't need to vote on the last point… Let's find Erik!"

A cheer rang out from the pack and they began to scatter. For the first time in his life Erik stared danger in the face, and he retreated to a safe distance. (_translation: he ran for his study and bolted the door!_). He backing away from the door he tried to think. Surely the Phantom of the opera could handle a few giggling girls. His grip tightened on his Punjab instinctively. A cold heartless smile twisted across his face. He would be rid of these girls and give them a scare they would never forget.

XxX

Tammy learned something that cold November afternoon. No matter which century you lived in and no matter what technical advances were made there was one subject you could always start a conversation with and every women would immediately talk about, and that subject was… men.

"Tristan," Nicolette, dressed in a pale lilac carriage dress with white lace gloves and parasol, let out an exasperated sigh, "has to be one of the most incorrigible men I have ever met."

"yes well," Rachelle, dressed in a similar style dress but in blue, chided, "at least you're beau pays attention to you. If Gabriel could concentrate on anything other than his business endeavors I would be ecstatic."

Tammy rolled her eyes. She had spent the whole of the afternoon listening to Tristan this and Gabriel that. Normally, she was a firm believer in being strong and trying not to be rude in all situations unless it called for it. But even she had her limits. The blonde and brown eyed sisters turned on her. Rachelle, arms crossed, raised a brow at her, "You've been silent all day, I'm sure the Comte de Chagny has his faults too."

Tammy shook her head, "I don't know the Comte well enough to say, except for the fact that he has insisted on introducing me to every person at this auction. But I've seen my fair share of men and seen enough faults to know what to stay away from."

Nicolette and Rachelle traded looks before sizing up their prey. Tammy hadn't been in society long enough to know that the Mademoiselles Devereux were notorious for their knack for matchmaking. Both with identical grins, Rachelle began the interrogation. "Please, I pray, elaborate."

Tammy, surprised, began, "well, you should never have to work to get a man's attention. If he's interested he'll let you know it, and normally it'll be obvious. An ideal man would never be unrespectable but also willing to bend the rules if the situation calls for it."

Nicolette smiled, "those are all well and good, but what do you want?"

Tammy blinked she raised an eyebrow, "what do I want? Well…" She thought, her eyes loosing focus. "as far as looks go I really couldn't care less, as long as he was tall, I like tall men… and dark hair. Personality, however means a lot to me. I want him to challenge me, make me think outside the box and challenge the way I view my world. He would pull my mind out of the clouds and dreams and give me something real. He would be so loving and possessive that he would stop at nothing to make me his, even…" She snapped back to reality. Mentally shaking her head she looked at her companions before sighing, "even if it meant changing history."

Rachelle's voice was soft, "that's… one of the most beautiful things I ever heard."

Nicolette looked at the other two, "well you have the Comte, that's good enough for most women."

Tamara glared, " yeah, most women" One thing though, since when had she ever been most women?

XxX

The phan girls had split into pairs of two and were now searching the entire house leaving no inch left untouched. Two girls were currently searching the kitchen. One had long blonde hair fashioned in an elegant knot on top of her head, a few stray tresses had escaped to wreath her face and draw attention to her deep soulful eyes. She was clothed in a deep blood red scarlet dress made of the finest silk that it rippled like water when she moved. Her necklace was and delicate intertwining design with dark rubies and shining diamonds. She opened cupboards looking for any sign of where Erik might have gone.

Ashe looked up from her pursuit of the broom closet, Beth, do you really think he would fit in one of those small itty bitty cabinets?"

Beth looked up, "hey you never know what a Erik will do if he feels his territory invaded."

Ashe flicked her cloak aside, "we're not talking about a wild animal here. He's a human being."

"Yeah, I know" Beth opened a cabinet of pots and pans. "he's just unpredictable."

Ashes moved a few mops before looking up, "hey you hungry? We haven't eaten since we got here."

Beth brightened, "lets raid the fridge!"

Ashe smiled, yet rolled her eyes, "hello! 19th century no fridges just pantries."

Beth sighed, "ok fine, fridge pantry, either way I need food!"

They both bolted for the door leading off the side of the kitchen not connected with the hall way. Ashe reached the door first and grabbed the polished brass doorknob. On a second thought she put her hand at the level of her eyes, she was after all in Erik's house and Punjabs run rampant. With small tug she pulled open the door. A rope was flung over her head and it was slowly tightening around her neck but she held it off. She sighed and sent a meaningful look to Beth, "and you called him unpredictable."

Beth shrugged, "hey, a girl can be wrong."

Erik materialized from the shadows. Amber eyes spitting fire, His voice grew low, almost a growl, "Why aren't you afraid?"

Ashe lifted the rope away from her neck a wolfish grin spread over both girls features. Beth stepped closer, "being afraid is one thing excited is another thing entirely."

Ashe glanced at Beth, "the question remains, do we glomp him now or call for the others?"

Erik slowly started to back up, until his back connected with the shelves stocked with food. A panic started through him his veins turning to ice. Ashe and Beth ran forward, "Get him!"

Erik threw a small capsule on the floor, a red smoke filled the room. It filled the girls lunges as they fell into coughing fits, eyes watering. Slowly the cloud dissipated when they discovered that cloaked fiend had escaped. Beth frowned, "drat!"

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HI me again, hoped you enjoyed that. As I said above everyone who submitted a review will be in the story, but writing all of you in is taking some time because I want your cameos to be really good! So be patient, and It isn't to late to submit cameos just refer to the last chapter for the info you need to include in your review! So thanks for reading PLEASE REVIEW! I'll up date ASAP! 


	13. Invasion part Duex

**Disclaimer: MY LORD HOW MANY TIMES MUST WE GO THROUGH THIS! By now I would hope that you as the readers would realize I don't own a thing except for the computer on which I'm typing this…if you don't we need to have a loooooooooooooooooong chat. **

Pre-chapter entertainment provided by Capes-r-us:

The greenroom was actually relatively quiet for a march day. The room is a kind of L shape, painted bright green (thus it's name), and covered in theatre posters. A day bed covered in lime green leopard spots and pink roses sat across from a massive fish tank and hidden in a corner was a traffic cone. Under the window was a set of bookcases and sitting chairs along with a small keyboard. Dark haired Will was trying to guess Tammy's password to the computer for what seemed the 8 billionth time that month. The paper shredder growled from its drawer, it was still unhappy, but what was new. Merlin in robes of a sapphire blue sat in one of the chairs reading some ancient text. Kyle, in all his foppishness was dusting in a pink frilly apron, his brown hair was sprayed into place.

Normally Tammy would be wildly writing, arguing with a muse, frantically trying to get ready for school given her tendency to get up late it was often a combination of any of the above. Today however was not a normal day. For once in the two years since Tammy had moved from her small town to Portland, Oregon it was snowing. Two inches, and for that reason school was delayed two hours and school was canceled on Friday…. I love the public school system.

Tammy however was in no condition to enjoy the two extra hours of sleep granted her. You see she was the mound of blankets, tissues, cough drops, and Midol in the middle of the daybed. Will sent her a sympathetic look, "does it have anything to do with aardvarks?"

A low growl uttered from the mound. Will took it as a no. Erik entered the room in his usual prowl, carrying a bag of Reeses peanut butter cups. Merlin looked up from his book, "you might try jelly fish"

Will glowered, "that was the password last week, she changed it."

Merlin blinked, "again?"

A grunt came from the mound. That was interpreted as a yes. Erik sat on the bed and poked the blankets, they growled at him. "I brought you something."

This invoked what sounded like a questioning sound. Erik held the bag out, like dangling bait before a shark, "it's chocolate."

Like lightening she grabbed the bag and disappeared beneath the covers. A ripping sound was heard before a mumbled thank you drifted up from the fabric. "Do I need to get you any thing," Kyle gushed.

The mound visibly cringed. Will answered for her, "no, and how many times must she burn your aprons before you get it through your thick skull that she hate frills."

Erik addressed the blankets, "As an uncertified doctor I respect the fact that you are feeling a bit under the weather, but as you're muse I must insist that you update for fear you readers revolt."

An audible sigh came from beneath the blankets, but the authoress dragged herself from bed to upload the new chapter…and then promptly attacked the chocolaty goodness.

**Sorry for the delay and short chapter. I'm sick, little cranky, and stuck in my house with cabin fever. Now, I'm working hard to be able to update sooner, but bear with me it's going to be a bumpy ride, especially since I'm studying for my driver permit.

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_**Invasion Part Deux

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"He can't have gone far" the black haired teen muttered. She was investigating the study, dark eyes searching. The girl was Chinese and her raven hair was long, reaching the middle of her back. Her crimson tank top was covered with a sheer unbuttoned blouse, making the brilliant color stand out in the shadows. A loose long black skirt hung to her ankles, the embroidery elegant and obviously made with much care. She was one of the few girls in the group to wear a cloak, midnight black with a red silk lining that put rose petals to shame.

"He may be some where else in the theater Angela." Her accomplice, also wearing a cape but of deep navy and silver, commented. Unlike Angela this girls didn't blend in with the shadows quite as well. A few inches taller, she wore a silver knee length skirt and deep navy top that cut across the shoulders. Her cape was clasped with a silver pendant below her throat. She had decided to go barefoot showing off her metallic blue toe nails.

She walked over to the bookcase, crystal gaze flickering over the spines of the books. Erik had worked hard to acquire each and every book, whether they had been classic literature to volumes on modern sciences. The bookcase made of dark cherry wood stretched from the floor to the ceiling and practically screamed something secret hidden behind here.

Angela glanced at Luna Silver over her shoulder, "brilliant deduction, Watson."

Luna rolled her eyes, and brushed the dust off of one particularly old novel. The old leather volume shrank to the back of the shelf. She frowned pulling the book forward. The mechanical grinding sound of gears long forgotten sounded through the room. Angela covered her ears and tried to be heard over the horrible sound, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Luna flinched dropping the book, "I DON'T KNOW!"

"WELL FIX IT!"

"HOW?"

Suddenly the grinding stopped and a cloud of dust settled. The two phans looked up to see the book case had moved approximately three feet to the left. A dark passage beyond had an essence that just oozed creepy musical genius. Angela grinned, "Awesome!"

Luna peered down the passage, "you think it goes to the torture chamber?"

Angela walked over to the corridor, "that or Christine's dressing room."

The two girls stood pondering where the passage went when Luna finally spoke, "You know there's only one way to figure out where it goes."

Angela nodded, "might as well."

XxX

Philippe, Tristan, Raoul, and Gabriel met up with the women near a group of Arabian stallions near dusk. The Mlles. Devereux were all a chatter about one thing or another. Tamara on the other hand was a part from the group leaning against the fence of the pen petting the velvety nose of a particularly handsome horse. Philippe drank in the sight, his gaze swept her emerald clad figure. She seemed perfectly oblivious to his attention, something he planned to change.

He leaned on the spot of rail next to her, "did you find this afternoon to your liking?"

She nearly jumped, just noticing he was there. She blinked and then smiled, "ah… Yes. Nicolette and Rachelle are lovely to talk to. I'm sure we will become fast friends."

Philippe inwardly cursed, the Devereux sisters were his best hope of gaining her identity. If Tamara didn't know them then the chance that they would know her were slim to none. He'd still have to speak with them, but he had a feeling the answer would be negative. He leaned closer to Tamara, patting the well behaved horse. "did you see any thing you liked?"

She threw him a glare, he blinked. "thank you but I'll acquire my own horse if I see fit."

Surprised at her cold tone met her gaze, like a winter frost. "I didn't mean to step on you're independent toes, but I was offering a gift."

Tamara knew better, if he wanted to give her a "gift" she was obligated to give him one back. Then the ton would know something was going on, she would prefer to keep the tons knowledge of her down to a minimum. She didn't look at his face, "thank you for the offer, but I will manage to get what I want when I want it."

Intrigued he brushed her hand with his on accident, "and what do you want?"

She straitened pulling her hand away, she cocked a brow at him, "ask your spies I'm sure they'll tell you." Turning on her heel she stormed off. Disappearing in the crush that suddenly decided to form around them. A whisper of a cloak the only indicator of where she went. Philippe paused, she was much smarter than he had anticipated. The black horse nudged his shoulder and snorted. Philippe laughed and stood, "you're right."

He took off in the direction that Tamara had taken.

XxX

Luna paused, leaning against the cool stone wall of the tunnel. Angela slumped against the wall across from her. The tunnel was much longer than either phan had anticipated they had been walking for what seemed like hours. A single torch in a sconce on the wall lit their path. Luna caught Angela's dark gaze, "what do we do now?"

Angela pondered for a moment before speaking. "we could scream I guess, but I doubt anyone is within hearing range. Singing would be pointless, except that Erik might find us and try and kill us…"

Luna blinked, "Phantom theme song?"

Angela grinned, "of course."

_In sleep he sang to me_

_in dreams he came_

_That voice which calls to me_

_And speaks my name and do I dream again_

_For now I find_

_The phantom of the opera is there.._

_Inside my mind._

_  
Sing once again with me  
our strange duet  
My power over you  
grows stronger yet  
And though you turn from me,  
to glance behind,  
the Phantom of the Opera is there -  
inside your mind  
_The girls paused looking around. "well," Luna asked. "do you hear anything?"

Angela cocked her head as if listening for something, anything. "just the sound of dripping water, eerie silence, and the distinctive fluttering of the wings of the hope of being found flying out the preverbal window."

Luna lifted a brow, "Snarky aren't we?"

"Only stating a fact," Angela said. "perhaps if we sing horribly Erik will come."

Luna frowned, "how'd ya come to that conclusion?"

Angela half shrugged, "he always seems to be around to drop things on Carlotta."

Luna nodded, "valid point."

The two stranded phans stood and began in the worst voices they could muster.

_Those who have seen your face  
draw back in fear  
I am the mask you wear . . .  
It's me they hear . . .  
Your/my spirit and your/my voice,  
in one combined:  
the Phantom of the Opera is there  
inside your/my mind . . .  
He's there, the Phantom of the Opera ...  
Beware the Phantom of the Opera ...  
_A black figure cloaked in shadow emerged hands clapped over his ears. In a low growl he cursed, amber eyes blazing, "DEAR GOD! If being invaded wasn't enough but now they're taking lessons from Carlotta!"

Angela grinned, a distinctive phangirl gleam entering her dark gaze, "Told you it work."

Erik tightened the grip on his lasso, and drew his saber from it's sheath, "Don't tell me you girls aren't afraid either?"

Luna grinned, an almost identical grin in her crystal blue eyes, "why should we be afraid? I mean you may be a phantom but we've seen scarier things."

Erik frowned, lowering his sword slightly. "may I ask you to elaborate?"

Angela shuddered, "have you ever seen a furby?"

Luna shivered, "or Hilary duff?"

"or Barbie?"

"or Hilary Duff?"

He lifted an unseen eyebrow, "I'm afraid I haven't ."

"Did I mention Hilary Duff?"

With an elegant sweep of his cloak Erik turned to leave, sheathing his sword. He hadn't taken two steps before being jerked backward. He turned and glared at the two girls now semi-permanently attached to the edge of his cloak, "unhand me at once or…"

Luna smiled, "'a disaster beyond you imagination will occur'?"

Erik raised his Punjab threateningly. Neither girl batted an eyelash, they only calmly raised on hand to the level of their eyes still keeping a firm grip on the black cloak. Angela cleared her throat, "I'm afraid Monsieur we don't know the way out of this tunnel?"

He glared at her, "how hard would it be to retrace your steps? I believe you just traveled in a strait path from the study."

Luna grinned, "but wouldn't it be easier if we had you to show us the way back."

Erik growled eyes glowing with warning, "Let. Me. Go."

Angela put on a thoughtful look momentarily, "umm…No."

Erik scowled, "Fine!"

The torch blew out plunging the trio into complete darkness. The girls gripped the cloak tightly not willing to let him give them the slip, hands still at the level of their eyes. The cloak in their hands grew slack. The torch relit itself and the girls found themselves alone once again. Only this time they had his cloak.

XxX

Tammy weaved her way through the crowd, knowing Philippe wouldn't be that far behind her. She cursed running into another dead end in the crush. Even given her small stature and usual quickness she was having difficulty navigating this dense swarm. Didn't every one in Paris own horses already? Couldn't they be doing something else like knitting or painting or something that involved them being somewhere else!

Scowling Tammy turned to backtrack and hopefully find another path. She ran smack into something solid, well dressed, and obviously looking for her. Arms like steel closed around her until she regained her balance. She wriggled out of his grasp shooting daggers at him with her eyes, "What do you want Philippe?"

Philippe arrogantly raised a brow at her, "I believe I was looking for the woman I was escorting to dinner."

She glared at him before trying to move past him, "Well keep looking 'cause this girl's going home."

He caught her elbow in a vise like grip and steered her to the nearest clearing. She would have wrenched her arm free, but causing a scene wasn't on her agenda today. That and nothing short of a crowbar would break his grip. She settled for muttered threats that only he could hear, "Remember what happened to that drunk at Faust? I would not hesitate to repeat such an act with you taking his place."

He chuckled, "I doubt if you could harm me."

She huffed, "You'd be surprised what I can do."

He sent her a sideways glance, "oh?"

"can you control a mustang going fifty down an interstate?" she kept her gaze strait ahead.

They reached a clearing in the throng and swung to face her, confusion on his face, "going fifty down a what?"

She rolled her eyes, it was times like these that she missed Erik. "Never mind, look I'm tired and want to go home to be with my brother."

Philippe regarded her, dark gaze searching, "Has your bother threatened you at any time?"

_Nearly everyday, _She crossed her arms across her chest, "what has that got anything to do with the density of Jello?"

He blinked at her. She gritted her teeth, "no and what does it matter to you?"

"I," he had the audacity to look angry at her, "am only worried about you."

Her laugh was mirthless, "You worried about me! That is something for the record books. I can take care of myself thank you very much!"

He towered over her, unknowingly ticking her off more. "Don't scream."

"I'm not screaming!" she snapped. "I can scream much louder than this!"

His muscles locked, temptation to test that theory definitely strong. He shut his eyes to calm down and focus on something else. Something not feminine, enticing, and standing two feet away from him. A sharp pain shot through his foot. He swore violently, eyes snapping open.

She had disappeared, again.

XxX

Mrs. Gerard Butler passed the kitchen. She was a tall girl with shoulder length curly blonde hair and gray blue eyes. At the moment she was dressed in a long sleeved crimson shirt cut to flatter her figure, blue jeans and black converse. As she passed the kitchen she heard Ashe and Beth rifling through the pantry complaining that they were "this close!". What ever that meant.

She continued down the dim hallway hearing various phans scrambling here and their looking for their favorite masked man. She however was on quite a different mission.

No one had touched the Louis-Philippe room, and she had a pretty good idea as to why. The poodle-haired twit had to be here, and their wasn't a snowballs chance in hell that she was going to let this opportunity pass her by.

Mrs. Gerard Butler found the door easily, and it took only moments to pick the lock. Honestly Erik was getting shabby in his security. Pushing the door open she peered in.

The brunette was lying in the middle of the wrought iron bed, brown curls spread across the pillows. Christine was sleeping soundly. Softly snoring and mumbling about how handsome Raoul was clearly was the final straw in the phan's mind.

_This was going to be way to much fun!_ Mrs. Gerard Butler pulled out a pair of silver scissors. Slowly she closed the door not to disturb the sleeping soprano…

* * *

And cue the cliffie!

HA! Now I'm holding all of you're cameos hostage for the world's largest FUDGE BAR! MUHAHAHAHAH! (cough cough hack wheeze) Or a few reviews will do it. Next chapter coming up soon!


	14. To Dump a Comte

It was nearly ten thirty at night when Tammy finally returned home. Dumping her backpack in a chair by the front door she placed a small bouquet of roses and pink lilies in a vase. Turning out the lights she grabbed a comb to brush out the ringlets in her hair and headed up stairs. She was exhausted and couldn't wait for sleep. She trudged down the hallway and made it to the green room still standing upright. She opened the door and went to turn on the light.

She never saw it coming.

The instant the light went on all of her muses attacked. "GRAB HER!" Will yelled.

Instinctively she reached for her sword only to find it had been removed from its scabbard. Dang resourceful muses, they were much smarter than she had anticipated. Golden Apollo easily disarmed her of the dagger she had hidden up her sleeve. Galrid and Ilsmir (working together _Gasp_! ) effortlessly picked the small authoress up, carrying her towards the computer. Merlin released the demonic paper shredder to hold back the army of rubber ducks that had suddenly appeared at the sound of their leader being writer napped, though Tammy wasn't making it easy with her thrashing and cursing. Will fielded the magic staff that was sailing through the air towards it's owner. None to gently Tammy was dumped in her spinning desk chair, Will and Erik strapped her to it with duct tape around her wrists ankles and waist. Kyle even did his part by cutting off any biting remarks she might have had by stuffing one of his freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in her mouth.

Fuming, but happy to have a cookie, She glared at her muses. Will stepped forward meeting Tammy's furious blue green gaze with his cold green one, "It is our duty as your muses to make sure you update frequently."

Tammy rolled her eyes and chewed her cookie thoughtfully, Kyle had added a pinch of vanilla like she liked. Erik came to stand next to Will, "Do you remember the last time you updated?"

Tammy blinked, Apollo sighed, "Have you even written any thing in the past month?"

Swallowing her cookie Tammy growled, "I have too! Pages upon Pages!"

Terrible shadow Lord Ilsmir crossed his arms over his armored chest, "_Firna_? Prove it!"( _translation: Yeah or yes, pronounced _FEER_-na_). Before she could answer Galrid agreed with Ilsmir, "You need to write I have at lest five reviewers wondering where you are or if you've given up on this story?"

"But…"

Will didn't let her finish her thought, "So, until you update you are not leaving that chair and we will each keep watch."

"But…"

Erik dumped her keyboard in her lap, "NO buts, I want those Phan girls out of my lair tonight and I'm not asking!"

She stared at her keyboard then swept her muses with a fairly innocent look, "This is sort of sweet to see how worried you all are about my stories…BUT I CAN'T WRITE WITH MY WRISTS TAPED TO THE CHAIR!"

**(Rising Mushu style out of the fog) I LIVE! Sorry for the incredibly long wait. Before you throw shoes at me please let me explain myself. I have just finished the production of Oliver and have been at school from 7:45 am to 10:00 pm. Not to mention the end of my High School's grading period. So my writing time had been monopolized by make-up, Victorian costumes, and actually eating and sleeping enough to live to see the next day. This chapter will be mostly Philippe and Tammy, cameos will be continued in the next chapter(s) depending on when my muses ever let me out of this chair. So without much further ado I bring you chapter …um….yeah.**

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* * *

**

To Dump A Comte

* * *

Tammy muttered dark curses as she stormed through the crowd that now decided to get out of her way. Stomping on his foot was a mild action for the mood she was in. He was just lucky she had only worn her three inch heels, she had contemplated stilettos. She dodged left passing Raoul and the gang, she barely muttered a hello before continuing.

Raoul stared, she was clearly unhappy. If he were a betting man he would have placed his money on the fact that Philippe probably did this to her. If he wasn't stuck here in societies clear view he would go after her to make amends.

Speak of the devil, Philippe passed him but stopped when he caught his brothers eye. "What?" Philippe snapped.

"Let her be," Raoul crossed his arms over his chest, "Can't you see she is furious. I know you had something to do with this."

Philippe dismissed his brother with an elegant sweep of his hand. "She doesn't know my intentions, I have to find her."

Raoul watched Philippe disappear, noting the he walked with a slight limp. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, "he can't be serious."

"Philippe has never been a man to settle down," Tristan scoffed. "He'll lose interest in fortnight, if not sooner."

Rachelle elbowed Tristan, "Be nice. This is one lady I'm not certain Philippe can woo."

Gabriel regarded Nicolette, "Really. What, perchance, did you discuss with our mysterious lady?"

She half shrugged, "We discussed matters that do not concern you. Miss Delarox however was quite adamant in her opinions and nothing short of the second coming itself would change her mind."

Tristan frowned, "Surely even she isn't immune to a mans charms."

Rachelle examined her white lace gloves, "Immune she is not, but she knows what she wants and she won't change her mind."

Raoul frowned, "She doesn't know then that Philippe's interest never is a passing thing."

Gabriel paused, "What do you think will happen when Philippe finds he can't have what he wants?"

Tristan grinned, "now that is a show I intend on having front row seats too."

XxX

Tammy had slowed down, the throb of wearing high heeled boots on cobblestone had stopped her. She normally had great stamina for pain but cobblestone was something new to her. She entered a secluded part of the park far away from where the auction was being held. Surrounded by trees and a row of hedges, leaves already haven fallen, it was semi private. A stone bench sat in the middle of this secluded glade. It was off the path a bit, but worth the walk. She had found it by accident trying to find the coach.

She collapsed on the bench, and pulled her cloak closer around her scarlet morning dress. It was something about the pain in her feet or it may have been something in the air that made her actually start to think of what was going on. She had come to several conclusions on her walk.

First off was that she probably over reacted to Philippe. She hated the fact that he was spying on her instead of asking her straight out what he wanted to know. Horrible things had happened to people who tried to pry into her private life back in the future, and old habits die hard.

On that thought came the realization that even if he asked her what was going on she couldn't tell him. She didn't belong in this time and she was like a Men in Black Agent that just had their identity erased. What was she going to say, 'Look you're a great guy. I think you would make an awesome beau, But there is one teeny tiny problem. I can't date you because I'm from the future, have no money, and I've lied to you for the last few weeks. Oh and heads up my last name isn't Delarox. To top it off I'm American and learned French from a disfigured genius who lives five floors underground who is, in fact, not my brother but a psychotic man with anger issues whom has it out for your brother.' Sure that would work so well.

She probably shouldn't have stomped on his foot, especially in heels. Pausing she took that thought back. He deserved to have his foot stomped because of what he accused Erik of. Sure Erik threatened her often, but would he ever actually harm her? Probably not. Tammy had the feeling that, even though he may want to strangle her on a regular basis, Erik had a code of conduct. Or at least enough moral not to harm a woman. She could be far off base, but she didn't find her feelings wrong very often. As long as you didn't count eighth grade.

With a sigh she decided she would have to apologize to Philippe. As long as he didn't do something stupid she would apologize and leave. Meeting everyone that she did was wonderful and great, but she couldn't be in the publics eye anymore. For both personal reasons and scientific reasons. She would alter time if she spent any more of it in the limelight, she didn't want to know what would happen then. She also was tired of being in society. Life in the high ton was what she had dreamed off since she was able to read those romance novels, but she didn't belong and she knew it. Acting kept this odd feeling away from the surface, but she was tired of putting on her mask in public. She just had to break it to Philippe gently.

"Tamara?"

She jumped whirling to face a well dressed Comte. Philippe was standing in the break between two tall hedges. Any other woman would have swooned at the sight of the undeniably handsome man dressed in Victorian finery. Tammy however learned a long time ago that handsome did not equal nice. Her calm cold mask was back in place.

Philippe raised a brow a her, she glared at him. Raising her chin she turned away from him, "I don't remember giving you leave to use my first name."

In his customary prowl Philippe crossed the small clearing to stand in font of Tamara. She glared at him, and twisted on the stone bench to not have to look at him. He gritted his teeth, and in a semi clam voice he tried to reason with her, "You used mine."

She threw him an ice cold glare, "that is different. I'm horrible with last names. If you noticed I've already taken to calling Nicolette and Rachelle by their Christian names as well."

Patience wearing extremely thin he sat on the bench next to her, she stiffened. He clasped his hands together, making it much easier not to try and touch her. He had decided to play the gentleman but she was making it very difficult. A painful silence stretched between them. He was temped to say something, but he had the feeling that anything he would say would be shot down in flames. So they sat in silence, and he was becoming more and more frustrated. "Did I hurt your foot?"

He glanced at her profile, "What?"

"When I stomped on it." Tammy spared him a quick glance, "I would hate to be the one to cripple the famous Comte de Chagny. So I'm asking, did I hurt you?"

He chuckled slightly, "I'm sure I'll survive."

"Good." She lapsed back into silence. He gazed at her profile, "Join me for dinner."

He caught her blue-green gaze with his brown one. She lifted a brow at him, "Commands? You forget I am not one of your subjects."

Turning thoughts away from how to rectify that unfortunate situation, he sighed, "will you please do me the honor of joining me for dinner?"

She smiled softly, "Much better, but I must decline. I have to be back at the café by six and it is already drawing close to half past five."

"to meet you brother no doubt." He stood, offering his hand. She hesitantly shifted her gaze between his hand and his face. He sent her his rakish smile, "I won't bite."

She smiled coyly, "that is a disappointment."

Placing her hand on his sleeve he laughed, "I would hope never to disappoint you Mlle. Delarox."

She smiled, but behind her mask she hoped she could just disappear. She blinked, maybe she could just that. With a plan formulating she and Philippe left the small grove.

XxX

They were standing under the canopy outside when Philippe glanced at his pocket watch, it was nearly six. They had left the horse auctions a little earlier bidding a quick farewell to his comrades. Tamara had promised to write the Devereux sisters and to stay in touch. Raoul had bid his goodbyes as well and solemnly followed them to the coach. It was a short an painfully silent ride to the café. Raoul had quit speaking to him, so it wasn't surprising to see he had lapsed back into his silence. Tamara however was thinking of something. She was quiet and only answered his questions with one syllable words.

Philippe pocketed the trinket he glanced at his companion. Tamara stood with a bored expression, she was still using her cloak almost like a protective shield against him. That was something he was going to have change, soon. "When will your brother be arriving?"

Tamara glanced at him, "Hard to say, I told him I would arrive back by six."

Philippe didn't like her response. He wanted to meet this brother as soon as possible, but until then he was content to converse with Tamara. He was determined to solve the mystery of her background. His plan to find out through the tons Matrons had backfired horribly.

"Tamara, what do you think of society?" He blurted. Blinking he tried to figure out where that question came from. He guessed it was from his suspicions of her brother, either way he was curious.

She raised a brow at him, "Society? Aren't you the random one." She sighed looking out across the busy street, "Society can be kind to it's upper crust, but those who are truly worthy of notice go undetected. It can even be cruel to those who do not fit with the mold it creates. In truth I have never cared for society. Certain rules I will respect, but other than that it could go to Lucifer's gate and back for the attention I give it. Once again I remind you that I did not give you leave to use my first name"

Philippe nearly bristled, she was spirited that was for certain. Her tongue alone could be considered a weapon. He however was not one to let a challenge go by, "What is it that bothers you about my use of your name?"

She turned to him, "The privileged few are allowed to call me Tamara, and I decide whether or not they can. No one just start using my name and expect for me just to go along with."

"You like it when I say your name, don't you?" He stepped closer to her, a shiver skated down her spine. She started to feel a blush stain her cheeks. Stop it! He was a FOP! She knew it. Worst off he was the brother of her most despised enemy. There was no reason on God's green earth why she should start going weak in the knees just because an 19th century Comte seemed interested in her. She had to escape now.

"No." A barely audible whisper escaped her lips. Giving him one last fleeting look, she put her plan into action. She sauntered over to the side of the window, Philippe moved to follow her. Throwing him an evil grin she pulled the small rope holding the canopy up. The black tarp covered Philippe and the diners.

Dropping the rope she stepped into the shadows, "Good bye Philippe."

Philippe ripped the tarp away from his head, Panicked dinners struggled to find their way out from the black prison. His brown gaze swept the deserted sidewalk. He cursed, she was gone.

XxX

Closing the rue scribe gate Tammy slipped down the narrow flight of stairs. She knew running was cowardly , but she had grown tired of Philippe and she wanted to be back with Erik. Philippe, though should be proud, he lasted longer than any of the other guys she had ever been interested in. Very notable since, when it came to the other sex, she had the attention span of a gnat… scratch that she always had the attention span of a gnat.

Humming a small tune she half clumsily waltzed half walked down a small corridor to her right, knowing that if she continued strait forward she would have a nasty run in with Erik's torture chamber. Frankly that was a trip she wanted to save for the never file.

Something snaked around her waist and pulled her into the shadows, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth preventing the scream that had barely escaped her lips. Naturally she struggled, jabbing her elbows where ever she could, kicking and trying to connect her foot with anything solid behind her, and generally doing a good job of thrashing around like a fish out of water. Her fist connected with a solid chest and her captor gave a short growl. Her eyes widened as she recognized that growl, after all she had heard it enough over the past few months shouting her name. Tearing the hand away from her mouth she spun around to face him, somewhere in the reaches of her subconscious she realized he still held her around her waist. "ERIK? What's going on why aren't you at the lair? Has something happened?"

He glared down at her, his amber eyes glinted with a mixture of anger, discomfort, and what she interpreted as fear. "We've been invaded."

Tammy blinked, "invaded? By whom?"

Erik checked the corridor before continuing in a hushed whisper, "A band of cloaked and oddly dressed girls stormed the lair and attacked me. They weren't even scared of my Punjab. I threatened them, promised to throw them in the torture chamber, but they just seemed to become even more excited. I barely escaped with my life!"

She blinked, before snorting very unlady like and fell down laughing, her sides hurting. Erik however didn't see the humor in this situation. Kicking her side gently he glared, "how come when ever I have a crisis you just laugh?"

"I-I'm so-sorry! You just had -just had you're first phangirl experience!" she tried speaking but giggles crept in to her conversation here and there, "and you reacted just like I thought you would!"

He dragged her up into a standing position by her elbow. "Are you telling me those… girls are my phans?"

Struggling to keep a straight face, failing miserably, she settled for a small grin, "ah now you see why the Punjab didn't work. These young women aren't normal in any sense of the word. They would gladly hurt Raoul and glomp you into oblivion. Few ground rules for dealing with them: if you don't want to be glomped, which you never know you may like it, it's imperative you keep myself and or a piece of furniture between yourself and them at all times. It's also best that you make sure that all of them are in sight, because phangirls are notorious for sneaking up on people, even you. Might want to hide your compositions, I know I loved souvenirs when I was a serious phan. If they start getting out of control music soothes the savage phan. And under NO circumstances are you to leave them alone with Christine or the fop."

If it was possible Erik went paler than usual. Tammy sighed and massaged her suddenly aching temples, "please tell me you didn't do what I think you did."

He swore in every language he knew, French, English, Arabian, German, Italian, Latin, Spanish, and she swore she heard some Chinese mixed in there. She held her hand out, "ring please."

He handed it over, she concentrated eyes closed. When she opened them she was in her favorite phan apparel. Dark blue skin tight flare jeans that flattered her long legs, her calf high black leather three inch heeled boots with silver buckles, white meg style Don Juan shirt with dark forest green and silver embroidery of Celtic designs, black silk gloves, her cloak, silver bracelets, and green feathered mask. In her hand her black staff appeared, it had an emerald in the shape of a flame sitting on the top of the black wood, silver etchings wrapped around the long stick.

Erik blinked, one of these days all of this would cease to phase him. That day however would be far away. It took him a full minute to realize she was halfway down the corridor. She looked back at him, "you coming or not?"

He caught up to her and trailed behind her back to the lair. He was growing more irritated by the moment, the fact that these women had invaded his home was grating him to no end, he was beginning to see red when he realized Tammy had been talking to him. "Pardon?"

She grinned, knowing that he hadn't been listening to a word she had said. Which was a pity since she had been telling him all about Philippe and how she had left him at the Café. Well he would have to find out later. "What were you doing when the phans first arrived?"

He raised a brow at her, "if you're implying that this is my fault…"

"oh, Parish the thought!" Tammy held her hand to her chest over dramatically acting as if she were wounded. "To think I was about to accuse the infamous Phantom of the Opera of an incident that occurred in his own home where only he and his Angel were in residence! By the way I hope you two had a chaperone."

Erik sputtered, "I…I'd never…how…how could you…imply…"

Tammy laughed, "That is something to go in a scrap book. I can see the caption now the day I made Erik sputter!"

He glared at her, "Have I told you lately that I hate you."

She grinned, "As a friend once said 'Compliments are Welcome'."

* * *

**Well that's it. Sorry about there being no cameos in this chapter. Next Chapter will be all cameos and probably the last cameo chapter but don't hold me to that. Sorry it's short, but I will be writing more often now that the plays I'm in are over. So remember (Looks at counter) to read and not review is a fanfiction sin. **


	15. Meeting of the Minds

**Disclaimer: **

**Roses are red **

**A deep crimson hue**

**I don't own Phantom**

**But if I did you could imagine what I would do : ) **

Ok. You all have legitimate reasons for hunting me down and slowly torture me by dipping me in boiling nail polish while playing rap music very loudly. But please hold off! I have been extremely busy in my life. I went to New York and sang in Carnegie hall (AND MET THE PHANTOM!), finished another year at school, got the part of Mina Harker in Dracula, and have discovered that life was so much easier when I hid in my room and all I had to decide was what to write next. I deeply apologize for having put off writing so long. But I hope you all enjoy having Christmas in July this year. Fop torture next chapter.

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**Meeting of the Minds

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**

A few snips and more of Christine's chocolate curls fell on to the white sheets. Mrs. Gerard Butler (who will here after be referred to as Caroline because, even though her pen name is really cool and I wish I had thought of it first, it gets really tiring on the fingers to type. Love ya Caroline!) laughed manically to her self, softly though to not wake sleeping beauty. She paused to examine her work, she had taken Christine's full head of poodle like curls and given her the worst haircut known to man, one that will be made fun of for the rest of eternity! That's right Caroline had given Christine…. A mullet! A full on business in the front party in the back, shaved poodle looking, mullet. She was also planning to give Christine the worst bleach job she could manage and maybe giving her green streaks.

Smiling evilly she gently lifted another long curl scissors poised for the cut. When the door slammed open with a loud bang. A flurry of Jedi robes and dark hair swept in to the room followed by a rather reluctant Tom Riddle, his dark robes billowing behind him from an undetected breeze. The dark haired girl began searching the room, not paying much attention to the other phan and poodle brain. Caroline snipped the curl shorter than she had planned, but that didn't matter because she was more concerned about the noise being made than Christine's hair. "Guinevere!" Caroline snapped quietly. "Quiet! You'll wake fish eyes!"

Guinevere paused; her blue green gaze spied the sleeping form of the young diva. Crossing the short distance to the bed, the click of her black stiletto heeled boots muffled against the Persian carpets, an evil grin spread across her features. She looked back at Tom who was leaning against the doorframe looking slightly bored, "Tom could you cast some sort of sleeping spell on Christine please?"

Tom raised a brow at her, "why are you being so polite?"

Guinevere glared, "I'm always polite. Please? I'll give you chocolate!"

Tom sighed and walked over to the sleeping soprano. He pulled out his wand and muttered a few words that Caroline didn't hear. A bright blue wisp of smoke curled out of the wand and circled Christine's head before sinking into the pillow leaving a ring of silver. "There," Tom began to back away from the bed when Guinevere tackle hugged him.

"Thanks!" she chirped. Tom untangled himself but went back to his place as guard with a small smile that only Guinevere caught before he glared at her.

XxX

**In Erik's room**

Two girls lucky enough to be assigned to search the throne of music were very delicately combing the room for any sign of the masked genius. Haley-chan, a slim five foot tall teen with short dark hair and dark eyes, searched the darker corners of the room. Her outfit had a decidedly dark theme to it, her black leggings were tucked into black high-heeled boots with a black turtleneck and decidedly familiar looking black cloak.

The other teen, by the name of Invader Jen had so far investigated the coffin, behind the organ, under the organ, and was now pawing her way through Erik's Compositions. She had pulled the candelabra over to the organ bench. In the candle light her pale skin contrasted with her brown hair and chocolate eyes. Like her fellow phan her clothes were black, but instead of a turtleneck she had a black t-shirt with "got mask?" written across it in white font and her cloak was red. She paused in her perusal of one of the many Christine sketches that littered the shelves and books of music. "He really is obsessed isn't he?"

Haley looked up, she had found this particularly interesting cabinet, "Is that drawing number thirteen or twenty?"

Invader Jen frowned, tossing the parchment aside. "I lost count a while ago."

"Um…Jen, could you come look at this." Haley had frozen looking at the contents of the cabinet.

Invader Jen left her piles of music to see what had frozen her comrade. On the dark shelves that were shadowed sat small jars of questionable liquid. Jen looked at Haley the only thing she managed to say was, "I think that were in the Leroux version."

Haley was paler than usual, "What should do? Pretend we didn't find it or dispose of it."

At that exact moment a small yellow rubber duck dropped from the ceiling and landed on it's side next to the cabinet. The two dark attired phans gaped at it as it slowly righted it self and let out a indignant squeak. This was perfectly understandable considering it had just fallen a good ten feet, it would seem a great deal more since he was only three inches tall. It brushed itself off, righted it's little plastic pirate hat so it sat at a jaunty angle off it's head. It spotted the two girls who were now staring at it. He waddled over, took a small scrap of rolled up paper, and handed it to Invader Jen. She took it and he stood there for a minute it's wing outstretched. Haley figured it wanted a tip and gave him a shiny dime. Dime in wing the duck disappeared in a puff of orange smoke.

Invader Jen stared at where the duck disappeared, "Now that's something you don't see everyday."

Haley grinned at her, "Being a phan you see things normal people don't everyday. Now what's with the paper?"

Jen unrolled the parchment, read the few lines then handed it over to Haley to read. In black scrawling writing it read:

_Invader Jen and Haley-chan -_

_It has come to my attention that you two have discovered one of the many plot devices left by Leroux that could destroy the humor of this phic. Needless to say this device will be dealt with in due time. It is un-necessary for you to mention this to anyone, most phans that have read the book know what is going on. I will inform Tammy when the time is right. Until then I suggest looking in the secret passages for your beloved ghost._

_Best wishes_

_Miss Black Shadow_

Haley tucked the parchment away in her cloak, "What do you think of that?"

She looked up to see that Jen was no longer in the room. Invader Jen, who didn't waste a second when it came to the whereabouts of an abandoned angst, poked her brunette head back into the room, "Are you coming or not?"

Haley-chan darted out of the room after her.

XxX

**In the Living Room**

Little Latte punched the pillow left on the couch, "Dang, he's not here either."

The blue-eyed and dark blonde haired girl fell on the couch. She was wearing a flattering t-shirt with the phantom stage poster and mask and dark denim jeans. Her converse shoes were perhaps one of the coolest articles of clothing she had, they were black with black shoelaces with dark red roses that matched the rose on her shirt and earrings. She folded her arms across her chest and blew a piece of braided hair out of her face, "Now what?"

Marcellina glanced at her fellow phan from her investigation of the parlor piano, "How should I know?"

The tall phan sat on the piano bench, her dark brown curls fell in front of her light olive skinned face. Her gray and gold eyes flicked over the sheet music left on the piano. She sat bolt upright, her long jean clad legs tucked under the bench. Their was the sound of the heels of her knee high boots clicking together as she thought. She looked over at Little Latte, the light falling on her wine colored tank top under a sheer gold embroidered tunic, "Isn't the song 'Defying Gravity' from Wicked?"

Latte sat up, "Yeah. Why?"

"Because," Marcellina picked up a piece of paper from the small pile of music. "I just found the sheet music."

Latte bolted to the piano, "I've been looking for that every where! I mean… What's it doing here?"

"Beats me."

Latte thought for a moment, "Could it be a sue?"

Marcellina's red lips turned into a frown, "I hope not, but it would give us something to shoot at for target practice."

Latte smiled and flopped back onto the couch, "Now your talking, Demon Sporky has been needing to put the troops into battle against a real enemy."

Marcellina blinked, "'Demon Sporky'?"

"Yeah!" Latte brought out a rather large white Spork that saluted Marcellina before scuttling off down the hall. Latte whispered, once the spork was out of sight, "His real name's General Clyde, but don't let him hear you call him that."

"I assume the rest of your troops are sporks." Marcellina commented.

"Duh."

Before Marcellina could answer that riveting comment Haley-chan and Invader Jen came sprinting down the hallway. Their cloaks were fluttering behind them as the chattered to each other about which tunnel they remembered went where what to do if they got lost and other such things. The distinctive sound of the front door slamming followed the cloaked phans disappearance.

Latte looked at Marcellina, "Let's go find Sheridan and Roxanne."

XxX

**Back in The Dinning room (a.k.a. Phan HQ)**

"Let go!"

"No YOU!"

"I had it first!"

"No I did! You were busy drooling over him."

"No way!"  
Rebecca had about had it, she glared at Angela and Luna who had been fighting over Erik's cloak for nearly a half an hour. Both phans had emerged from the study clinging to it and had a dazed look in their eyes. They claimed to have had a close encounter of the phantomy kind, but they weren't the only ones. Rebecca, Roxanne, and Sheridan had been passing by the kitchen when the door had flung itself open and red smoke had billowed out. Ashe and Beth swore up and down that they nearly had Erik cornered except that his theatrics saved him.

So here they all were, Rebecca had claimed the chair to the head of the table by threatening everyone with what was in her duffle. Though Beth had given her a run for Rebbeca's money with her guns that were exact replica's of Selene's guns from underworld. She was now on the opposite side of the table nurseing not only a bruised head but an ego as well. Ashe sat next to Beth and was currently absorbed in some pie she had found. Sheridan had started a betting pool on who would end up with Erik's cloak, Roxanne had put 10 bucks on Ashe. Her reasoning was if it came to weapons Angela had more of them and was probably well versed in using them. Sheridan was pulling for Luna because she only had two silver daggers not all that gear to slow her down.

"Enough!" Rebecca roared. The two bickering phans ceased talking but still held firmly to the cloak. Just as she was about to tell of the two about how silly there fight was they were joined by another girl. She was wearing black mini skirt, black lace up-knee high boots and fishnets, black corset with black shirt underneath. Her purple eyes caught sight of Ashe about to sink her fork into the pie. Black hair and red bangs flying she saved the pie from it's horrible fate leaving a grumbling and still hungry Ashe behind.

After making sure the pie was safe Misha turned to the other phans, "No phantom in the bathroom."

Half the girls rolled their eyes while the other half sighed. Misha pulled up a seat to the table, "Now what do we do?"

Sheridan raised her eyebrows, "What does one normally do when tracking someone that doesn't want to be found?"

Roxanne frowned, " I never liked hide and seek. It sucks even more now that I actually want to find the person whose hiding."

"Whose hiding?" A redheaded figure in black said, she was lounging against the doorframe.

Beth stood up, "Who are you?"

Our black masked idol stepped forward from the shadows behind the girl, "She's my guest and your in my house."

"Name's Tammy." Tammy grinned, "I think these two belong to you."

Erik lead Invader Jen and Haley-chan into the room, they were both happily sporting the Punjab lasso around their wrists.

"I think it's about time you introduced yourselves," Erik growled still irritated that his peace had been invaded.

Ashe jumped up and introduced herself first. She enthusiastically shook Erik's hand then was courteous and polite to Tammy. After Ashe, Sheridan reintroduced her self to Erik. Tammy watched as He began to fit names to the terror's he had told her about from the moment he had regained his tongue after she made him sputter. Rebecca was next, followed closely by Roxanne and Sheridan. All three extremely eager to meet their idol. Angela and Luna came up at the same time still clutching his cloak until he snatched it back, grumbling as he fastened the cloak around his throat. Misha was last of the original group to present her self to the two opera ghosts.

I say original because by now they were joined by not only by Marcellina and Latte (who were ecstatic to see Erik), but also four other phans joined the crowd. The first being Kari, a five foot six teen in a full length maroon gown, matching Tripp corset, and black boots covered in buckles. She had beautiful brown hair and violet eyes.

Midnight Wolf was next in line. She was very pale and about an inch taller than Kari with dark midnight blue hair with silver streaks that fell past her shoulder blades. Her outfit was dark black jeans with a silver petal rose embroidered so that it curled up her right leg and a viper in the left, She had navy sneakers with black laces, her black shirt was loose sleeved with the words "I 'heart' Boys…" on the back it read "on other boys". She also had a watch with a mask in the middle of the dial and rosebuds on the dark blue band. It also came to Tammy's attention that Wolf wore pointy black steel rings on her right hand, she found this out when she went to shake Wolf's hand.

Next was Amazi-chan. She had wavy brown hair about shoulder length, braces, and silvery eyes that shine in torchlight. She wore a black blouse with an ivory fang necklace, and black silk pants, she has on black shoes that muffle sound. She has double pierced ears with fang earrings and studs.

Last, and certainly not least, was Erik's Muse. She had brown-blondish hair that was almost shoulder length and glasses. My outfit was the mask like in the musical the top mask, the cape, a black shirt with a flowery scarf, black capris, and high heel black boots.

After introductions were made Wolf noticed that two phans were missing from the group and slipped out of the room to investigate.

"So," Tammy addressed the phans, "You searched every where for Erik. I'm surprised you didn't find Christine."

At the mention of the poodle haired twit several weapons came out. Some were more fierce than others. Kari glared at Tammy, "You mean Christine has been here all along?"

Erik sensed the danger in the air and at that exact moment, 7:45:39 pm November 5,1887, a horrified scream filled the air of the house on the lake.

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**I hope you enjoyed that little interlude. Please Read and Review. I will pick a number between 180-210, and the lucky reviewer who reviews on that number will not only get a special time with Erik in this phic but will get a guaranteed spot in my next phic "TAG!" to be released soon. I'll update soon.**


	16. New arrIvals

**Disclaimer: (Sob) I hate my life! Erik: You're such a pansy. Get on with it. Me: I am Not a Pansy! I just hate this part. (sigh) I don't own the phantom or any of his sexiness. But in my mind I do!**

**A/N: **You all have a justifiable reason to hunt me down and kill me next time I take so long to update. Erik shall give you the details to my whereabouts if you should need them in said hunt. I'm incredibly sorry it took so long to update. My summer was hectic and as soon as school was started I busy was Dracula rehearsals and homework. My deepest apologies as an Authoress. That being said it might take a while for the next chapter to be published because of said rehearsals/performances/ life in general. I didn't mean for these chapters to be so far between. It's just that I've discovered cameos are incredibly hard to write. After the cameos we will return to your regularly scheduled chaos and mayhem. Enjoy!

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**New arrivals

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The door slammed open in the immaculate foyer of the manor house. Philippe's Hessian boots clicked against the marble entry, he was not agitated per say. He was fuming. Raoul entered on his brother's heels but instead of being sympathetic to his brother's plight he was more impressed by Tamara's spirit and determination… that and the theatrics of dropping a canopy on Philippe nearly sent Raoul over the edge into hysterics. No woman had ever refused Philippe, so for one to do it in such a grand style was in a word hilarious. If it hadn't been for the look Philippe had thrown at them he would have made some sort of comment to that point. He could tell the Philippe was confused, angry, and maybe a tad hurt. But the hurt may have been his imagination.

Handing Jacques their cloaks the two brothers retired to the study for some brandy. Philippe settled into his chair and brooded in his own little world. Toasting Tamara for her brilliance, Raoul down his brandy pretty quickly finding himself in great spirits. He had decided that tomorrow he would have to visit Christine, she would make him feel even better. He would try and figure out why she had brushed him off that opening night.

Leaving Philippe to contemplate his straights, Raoul headed for his room in the east wing. He shed his elegant evening wear, and donned light cotton nightclothes, dismissing his valet. Climbing into his overlarge fore poster bed he steeled down to sleep. Glancing at the balcony he thought he saw a pair of Green eyes looking at him. He froze then they disappeared as quickly as he thought he saw them. He dismissed the incident as induced from the brandy.

High above the lights of Paris the authoress glanced back at the Vicomte's balcony. She thought for a moment then waved her staff over his general bedroom, "Let him remember nothing of what is going to pass tomorrow."

The protection of her canon characters done, she disappeared with a small pop. No trace left of her.

XxX

Tammy tsked disapprovingly, "Phans can never travel without getting themselves into trouble. Lets go see the damage."

Of course Tammy was speaking to herself seeing as Erik had sprinted from the room upon hearing Christine's obvious distress. He was of course followed quickly and now she saw fit to follow. It was apparent that she was going to have to stop several murder attempts this evening most of them between Erik and his phans, but maybe Christine would surprise her and put up some sort of fight. She snorted, yeah like that was going to happen.

Walking calmly down the hall, She found that she wasn't alone. Erik's Muse and was walking beside her, "Hi."

"Um… Hi."

"I was just wondering," Erik's Muse glanced ahead towards the growing commotion outside the Louis-Philippe room, "if you would mind if we all camped out here until we can get home?"

Tammy remembered phan sleepovers from her earlier days; the chaos, fun, junk food, and movies drifted through her mind. She knew the 2004 movie might show up and the possible consequences from that would be harsh, but at the moment she was enjoying the mental image of Erik tied to his reading chair with colorful scarves and the phan girls munching unhealthy foods while discussing how one might swish a cloak correctly and how much they enjoyed the ending of the Kay novel. Sure she'd pay for it later, probably with more house cleaning, but she wanted to expose Erik to more of the female population and she was tired of having no one to talk to about the fun stuff. That and it was perfect revenge for making her watch the poodle-haired diva for the last three days.

A wicked grin stole over the redhead's face, "Sure! Let's make a party out of it."

Erik's Muse grinned, "Sweet!"

Tammy was abruptly reminded of why she was walking to Christine's room by the sudden wail from the diva, gentle cooing from Erik, and scattered giggling and murmurs of awe from the room.

She and Erik's Muse quickly strode down the hall, emerging from the crowd to see a sight that should have gone in the record books. Bent and lying against Erik, Christine was whimpering while he glared at the girls responsible. Her dark chocolate colored curls were now much shorter in the front than in the back and looked like a blonde wig that was dipped in chlorine. The ends of her curly hair were dyed orange courtesy of Midnight Wolf. It was a mess. Though the green might come out in a few days, it now seemed that Leroux had his blonde Christine, though she was still blue skinned.

Erik's Muse giggled a bit at the sight of it and Tammy tried in vain to keep her face straight. She composed her self slightly and voice strained addressed Erik, "Do you know who did this?"

He glared and pointed at Mrs. Gerard Butler, Guinevere, Midnight Wolf , and surprisingly Tom Riddle. Eyes sparkling Tammy gestured for the quartet to follow her, "Erik, if I were you, I'd get Christine back to the dormitories."

His amber gaze bored into her, "Can't you do anything to help her?"

"Nope." She led the four trouble makers into the hallway, "I can only manipulate time to bring things back from the future, not change someone's appearance because they want to."

Christine quit her self pity party long enough to inquire what Tammy had meant, and was told that it was none of her concern and that she would have to wear a hat for a month. Then Tammy basically ran for her life before Erik could kill her for being snarky. She ducked as one of her books went sailing out past her head.

Glancing at the three phans and young wizard she motioned them to continue to follow her, "We need to get out of earshot."

She led them to the living room, then turned to face them. The phans suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs when Tammy glared at them. Than a crazy grin spread across her features, "Thank you so MUCH!"

Midnight Wolf blinked, Guinevere glanced at Tom uncertainly, and Mrs. Gerard Butler found her voice after the initial shock, "What?"

"I've been trying to do something like that since I got here!" Tammy pulled out a small leather wallet, at the inquisitive glances she shrugged "I won it of a Buquet in a masked poker game. But here's five franks each, it's not much but it's all I have, get yourselves something nice on me."

Tom scoffed, "Five franks is a little stingy."

Guinevere elbowed him, "Hello! Nineteenth century! Five franks back then…er now… is worth double almost triple it's normal value!"

Tom regarded the bill with a less cynical glare. Tammy leaned over to Guinevere, "He has issues doesn't he?"

Guinevere nodded, "Well he's more angsty than normal because of time travel."

"Point taken, noted, and filed alphabetically for further use. " Footsteps sounded down the hallway as Erik carried a slightly less miserable Christine out of the house. Tammy quickly turned her back to the hall, and wagged a finger in the direction of the terrible foursome. "… and I hope you four will think of the repercussions of your actions beforehand next time. Just imagine the emotional distress you put that poor girl through."

Erik nodded at her than continued down the hall. When she heard the click of the door being shut she gagged, "I need soap! Such foul words must never pass my lips again!"

Blinking at the sudden outburst Mrs. Gerard Butler took the opportunity to slip out of the room and head for Erik's room. Tammy was seriously considering the benefits of an aspirin seeing as all the goings of the day were beginning to tell on her brain. Not only had she gotten rid of Philippe, but know she had a grumpy phantom, a small army of phan girls to control, and what was worse was that she hadn't eaten since she left for the horse auctions.

Nodding he approval at the remaining phans and wizard she departed to find food. Striding into the clean kitchen she found that another pie had gone missing complements of Ashe. Misha had the other pie and was sitting at the table muttering something to herself. Tammy headed for the pantry still convinced that there might be some sort of pasta she could make. She smiled at the memory of burning spaghetti as a freshman.

That sweet smile was still upon her face when she went to open the door. A pair of red eyes stared at her intently from the dark. Smile gone she froze, an accented and highly seductive voice called from the dark, "Mina…."

Slamming the door shut, Tammy spun and flattened her back against the door, "CRAP!"

Misha looked up at Tammy then towards the bottom of the door, "Why is the door misting?"

Tammy glanced down and saw mist spilling out of the bottom of the door, "Simply wonderful."

The mist condensed in the middle of the kitchen. A tall dark figure stepped out of it, "Mina! Surely you haven't forgotten me." He smiled handsomely.

Misha had gone into a state of half stunned half phan-girl-that-just-spotted-Erik like coma. Tammy refused to look into the mans eyes, "I'm not MINA! I only played her once in high school! You didn't even play Dracula! How'd you get in here?"

"Dearest Mina, I know you're more intelligent than that." Dracula smirked, and indicated Misha, "she wished I would come."

Tammy glared at Misha who wasn't paying any attention to her, her attention still fixed upon Dracula. "Normally I would have paid little to such a request, but I sensed you would be here."

Tammy considered doubling that aspirin dose she would have to take just to stay sane. "First things first. I repeat I am not Mina, your about a decade or so off before you even lay eyes on her. My name's Tammy, not that you'll be saying it that much when I invite you to meet the bottom of the lake, indefinitely." Her mind whirled for a minute before she smiled, "Secondly, while you stay here, you can only try to bite me. I want your word."

Misha woke from her stupor to protest. Dracula smiled fangs bared and disappeared from sight, "Of course, Mina." Tammy lunged for the pantry and shut the door while he appeared on the other side of the room, "You're not invited into this pantry!"

He growled, but found he could not pass the door. Just as he was about curse and tear off the door, Tammy opened it. She strode out of the small food closet, that sweet smile back in place, with a ring of garlic around her neck. Her smile turned smug when she saw the look in Drac's eyes.

From across the house came screams of delight. They echoed down to the other side of the house where more sounded. Tammy sighed, and walked to the living room followed closely by Dracula and Misha who was trying really hard to get his attention. Tammy wished her luck, frankly she didn't want to be the center of his unwavering attention. Dracula was slowly becoming aware of the other woman practically hanging off his cloak.

Tammy reached the center of the deserted room, and rubbed her ring. A blow horn appeared in her hand and she cranked up the volume. The piercing screech the flowed from the device had Dracula covering his sensitive ears and rattled the books on the shelf. Tammy, then half deaf, called into it, "Everybody in here now!"

There was a pause, then phans and new persons began filtering into the room. Tammy stared as she realized that she recognized the gentlemen escorting the enamored phans into the room. Captain Jack Sparrow, grinning from ear to ear, came first with Sheridan and Kari. Next Zorro, seriously confused and asking where Elaine was, was pulled into the room by, Captain Cute McSquishy, Midnight Wolf, Marcellina, and Luna Silver. Severus Snape, sour look in place, had a surprising number of dedicated fans; Angela , Haley, and Ashe. Aragon appeared and had Azami firmly attached to his arm. Empirical march music stared as Darth Vader entered followed by Invader Jen and Rebecca. Edward Scissor-hands showed up, along with Batman, Adrian Brody, and some random vampire named Chad; all had their respective phans. (Give me a break my fingers hurt from typing!)

Tammy surveyed the large crowd. Dracula had gathered a Large crowd around himself and was smiling, extremely pleased to find so many beautiful young ladies in one spot. She caught his eye and raised a brow, He cursed and went to sit in Erik's reading chair. Tammy sighed and decided that a whole bottle of aspirin wouldn't be able to fix the headache she suddenly developed. When Erik got back he would not be pleased.

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**Anyone who asked for a cameo last time needs to review with the info asked in chapter 11. Till next time!**


	17. Sleep over!

**Disclaimer: **

**I don't own phantom**

**This makes me very distraught**

**Copy right laws Suck!**

**A/N:** Um…Hi? (Flinches at accusing readers glares) I'm really sorry for not updating like I said I would. I just had a really stressful first two months of my junior year. You have to understand that I was doing the play Dracula and every day after school I had practice till five, then I had homework and other activities till nine, and don't get me started on dress rehearsal week. But I have some awesome pictures and I would link it here if I could.

There has been some concern on the fact of whether or not I will finish this story. OF COURSE I WILL! This is my best story I've written to date. I expect it to go at least forty more chapters before I start wrapping it up. And just so you all know I have the ending all figured out and partially written, you're going to love it! It definitely didn't go the way I thought it would but this story seems to write itself sometimes.

Any way, Cameos will be wrapped up in about three chapter, I tried doing it in two but it just calls for three. I have to cut off people putting in camoes though (I need to go through my records and record how many people wanted a cameo anyway, I tend to be a lazy authoress). So it must be in by Monday if you want in because I'm going to be updating on Friday or Saturday (Sunday at the latest). So with out more babling on my part here you go:

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**_Sleep over!

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_**

Erik stalked down the stone corridor, still fuming at what those girls did to Christine. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do besides trying to convince Tammy to change Christine's appearance back to normal, and in her words, there wasn't a snowballs chance in hell of that happening. Until the dye grew out she was just going to have to live with it, plus maybe the ballet rats would have mercy on her since the holidays were coming up.

All that was left to do now was to do was be rid of those girls and he and Tammy could return to their quiet life under the opera house. The thought was very appealing, Erik nearly smiled. His pace increased as he rounded the bend to view the lake and his home. The dark water was nearly still and light reflected from his lantern. A loud crash resounded from across the lake.

He sighed, wonderful. Now what?

He jumped with catlike grace into the gondola and poled his way across the lake. The sounds of a young women chattering along with deeper voices assaulted his ears as he tied up the boat on the other side. He opened the door with a bang, and blinked at what he saw.

Tammy sat, glaring at the wall, on the sofa with an elegantly dressed man with dark hair and red eyes practically leering over her. Only she had a ring of something around her neck, was that garlic? Misha was sitting next to the gentle man making small talk with him and Kari who was seated on the floor leaning up against the couch. Another more greasy looking gentleman was leaning against the bookcase trying to read while under the inquisitive gazes of Ashe and several others…. Wait a minute there were gentlemen everywhere!

"TAMARA!" Erik bellowed. Tammy looked at him looking slightly relieved to have him back, "Present."

"What on earth is going on?" His amber eyes flashed, "Who are these gentlemen?"

Tammy pointed out a man in a brown over coat and hat, "Sherlock would you care to give him the same explanation you gave me?"

Tipping his hat to the phantom Holmes began, "As I see it, these men are some of fictions most notable, and in some cases notorious, characters. They are all connected in the fact that they have some personal flaw that makes the women they love reject them. For example that demon over there," He indicated Dracula, "he is a vampire making it impossible for him to be with Mina Harker, whom he believes to be your young charge. In any case we were brought here by the mystical summoning of the ethereal trinket of hers."

"Basically" Tammy translated, more for herself than anyone else, "Because of all the phans wishing for their angsts my ring went haywire and brought them all here and I can't get rid of them."

Erik's eyes narrowed as Dracula's arm draped over her shoulder and she shrugged it off. "Go play with Kari."

Kari wasn't about to argue and she started chatting up Drac. Tammy retreated to the far end of the sofa leaving enough room for Erik to come between her and the vampire lord. He took that opportunity and glared at the fanged fiend, there was that intense possessiveness again. Caroline bounced up a few minutes later and seated her self in front of Erik, "Hey Tammy, can we watch a movie?"

Tammy rubbed her ring and a large screen TV appeared in front of the bookcase, forcing Severus Snape and his gaggle of girls to find another spot. Captain Jack became very interested in this magical trinket that produced things at random. Handing the ring over Tammy, popped in a copy of everyone's favorite, The 2004 Phantom of the Opera. Not realizing the danger involved in giving Jack the ring, she returned to her seat.

Rebecca dragged Darth Vader over to the side of the couch and jumped in one of the newly acquired beanbag chairs. Aragon was also given the same treatment. Adrien found himself with Caroline semi-permanently attached to his waist, but he didn't seem to mind, but it made sitting in a beanbag hard. Edward Scissorhands found a seat and folded his hands praying mantis style in front of him while Roxanne sat in front of him. Zorro didn't have time to find his seat before Angela tackle hugged him, thankfully he landed on a bean bag. Eventually everyone was seated and even Tom Riddle and Snape were grudgingly sitting in the same vicinity.

Jack had figured out how to get the ring to produce a small crown which he now wore lopsidedly over his hat, three chests of gold pieces of eight, a small grandfather clock, two undead parrots, and a canon before Tammy snatched it back. She produced enough bags of popcorn to make everyone happy. Then politely told everyone to "Shut your face and no one gets hurt".

Erik glared at the screen as the overture began. He hissed, "Tamara, Might I have a word with you.. In private."

Tammy was in a beautifully-played-organ-music-that-was-slightly-creepy stupor, "Tammy's not here at the moment please leave a message after the beep. BEEP"

Erik growled, "I an warning you Tamara…"

Little Latte glared at them from her spot next to Chad, "I don't mind you talking at the moment but when Gerry comes on the screen would you two kindly shut up!"

Their was a chorus of agreement before Erik's Muse tossed some of her popcorn at Kari. Who immediately retaliated, But Erik's Muse ducked and the kernels hit Marcellina. Quicker than you could say Punjab lasso a full out popcorn fight was on. Someone had produced mm's to add to the chaos, it then became an ugly game of dominos. Speaking of which, for some reason domino shaped chocolates just went flying in to the mix.

Meanwhile Tammy seemed totally unfazed, still focused on the movie, fingering the mask necklace she wore under the garlic ring. Erik amazed at her focus leaned over and asked, "How is it with all the mayhem you still seem so serene?"

He winced as the chocolate hit the side of the piano. She looked at him, "I had two siblings and chose a career that focuses on the chaotic. It was either go completely mental or join in the fun when the timing is right."

He raised an unseen brow at her, "And that would be?"

She glanced at the screen, "In three …two …one."

The tell tale chords of everyone's favorite theme song filled the lair. Immediately as if nothing happened the phans scrambled back into their seats to listen to Gerry.

"We need to talk." Erik growled in her ear.

"After the movie" She sent him a weak smile, "until then sit back and enjoy the ride."

XxX

She was a dead woman. Erik waited patiently for the screen to fade to black before he unceremoniously yanked Tammy off the couch, down the hall, and into the kitchen. She whined about her wrist still being attached to her arm but he ignored her, He was not in the mood. He had to bellow to be rid of Ashe, Azami, and Aragorn, before he was alone with Tammy. He went and locked the door before turning and released the barely surpressed rage that was filling him. Tammy didn't wince or flinch because she figured this was coming, that and she was almost stupidly stubborn when it came to stuff like this. He glared at her, "What is going on?"

She focused her gaze on the cabinets, "You need to be more specific."

He laughed, mirthlessly. "First me home is invaded by squealing girls, who attack Christine. Then when I come back from returning said person to where she belongs I come home to find, in addition to the girls, a group of unsavory gentlemen one of which was practically on top of you pinning you to the couch…"

She smiled, " First off he was not on top of me or pinning me in any fashion He couldn't touch me with the garlic, and two he seems to have switched his attention to Kari If that's a help."

"No it doesn't!" He snapped, "I left you in charge Tamara, and you turn my house in to a certifiable Lunatic asylum! You get yourself into more trouble then necessary, especially when it comes to men. Worse yet you show that disgraceful film that shows that I never win Christine! Further more…"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" She snapped holding her hands up in a futile gesture to stop the tumult, "It is not my fault what was on the movie! That's how the story goes!"

"No it doesn't! Christine loves me!"

"NO SHE DOESN'T!" Tammy's voice reached her acting performance volume, which was why five directors had taken her mike away. It was loud enough to attract the attention from the phans, scuttling was heard as the gathered around the door out side. Tammy didn't care however as she saw red and wasn't about to stop, "She doesn't. She uses you! You make her sound amazing but as soon as she gets her rich beau to take her away from this place you'll be left with nothing! It's not my fault, Erik! It's not even their fault!" She gestured at the closed doors where the phans were listening eagerly. "It's history Erik! Every version of your story there ever was the girl leaves for the rich good looking Vitcomte. I'm sorry but it's history. I can't change it. You certainly can't change it either! History is set in stone and will always revert to the set path. Even if I new element is introduced history will reject it unless it was meant to happen. History will always be what it is, unhappy with it as we are we can't do anything about it!"

"Yes I can" he snapped back.

She grew quiet, "How?"

He growled, "She will love me."

As much as Tammy wanted to point out the obvious that that didn't answer her statement she dropped it, "Fine. If you can change history, go ahead. When you do something other than pine for what you yourself deemed impossible, tell me. But just know that I'll be here…"_When she leaves you. Breaks your heart. And you fall into misery again._

She glared and gritted her teeth in silent scream before whirling away from him. With that she walked over and yanked the door open to find all the girls falling into the room. They grinned sheepishly up at Tammy. She smiled warmly back at them, her acting chops certainly in shape hiding the fact she wanted to cry or punch something, "Alright, who wants to watch Dracula2000?"

Misha piped up from the couch, not having left Dracula's sight, "If it's followed by Van Helsing I'm in!"

The phans stood and allowed themselves to be ushered back into the living room, a murmur of excitement trilled through the girls as they rejoined their angsts. With one last fleeting glance to Erik, Tammy tilted up her chin and put her best face on.

Erik growled and felt his fist connect with the table, pain shot up his arm as the wood splintered but he ignored it. How dare she stand up to him like that? Especially when she was so wrong. She was wrong, right? He swore violently. Of course she was wrong. She may have won the argument, which surprised him, but she was still wrong. He could change history if he wanted too. It wasn't impossible. He would have to do some research though, which meant confiscating everything Tammy had that was related to him. And he might want to chat with these phans while they were here. A new plan formulating in his slightly twisted mind He left the kitchen and headed for his only sanctuary.

XxX

Tammy found Erik later in his room, playing his violin lovingly. She silently shut the door and leaned against the door frame and just watched him. Amazing how even when she was exhausted she found his music so refreshing.

The phangirls were now hopefully sleeping in various spots around the house. Tammy had settled the angsts in the rose room. For even though she was fine with guys and girls sleeping in the same house, she had remembered most of the men would have a hard time stopping a phangirl when she was determined for a good night kiss. Dracula and Chad were the most vocal about this problem, but she promised them that they could go out in the night and do their vampire thing as long as they didn't kill anyone. They seemed happier at that and promptly disappeared for parts that Tammy didn't really want to know. She had settled the phangirls in the living room, library, Louis-Philippe room (there was a small fight between Sheridan and Roxanne about who would get to sleep in the bed), and some surprisingly opted for the dining room. They only decided to go to bed after they had watched Dracula 2000, Van Helsing, all three of the Lord of the Rings movies, Star wars episode one, Zorro, and were halfway done with the Harry Potter movie series before they started to pass out. That being said it was nearly four in the morning.

Tammy had played hostess but now she needed some alone time with her Erik. She just may have screwed it up with their fight earlier. He had started it, but the thing was Tammy never backed down from a fight ever. So having him jump on her and accuse her of all those things made her blood boil. It was a bad habit she had picked up from living in the city all those years. She was hoping he would let her apologize for snapping at him, but she wasn't about to take back what she said.

He laid his bow down and in a curt voice addressed her, "What do you want?"

She flinched on the inside, "I… I'm sorry."

He nearly dropped his violin, Tammy could see how scuffed and slightly abused looking it was so she prayed he wouldn't drop it. He caught it and turned to face her, he took his mask off. She tripped the lock to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed. She was accustomed to seeing his face now, but the girls as accepting as they were hadn't been living with him for the past three months. He eyed her with a slight disbelief, "What?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "I'm sorry for yelling at you. It wasn't my place, but what I said about history was true." Best not to tell him the facts about Christine were true too.

He snorted, "and I'm supposed to believe that."

Her vision was tingeing pink but she ignored it, "Yes, because it's a sincere apology from a friend. I've always made it a point never to go to bed mad. …Except in high school, but that's a different story."

"As fascinating as your childhood was, I don't see it's relevance at this moment."

That pink was slowly turning red but she ignored it, keeping her voice as level as possible, "Look I'm trying to admit I was wrong and you could act like the human you want to be treated as and show a little mercy for a fellow human being."

He glared right back at her, "Mercy wasn't one of my strong suits."

She gasped, "So, that's it you won't forgive me. What do we do now? Do I just go off and feel horrible about myself would that make you happy?"

Now he was getting more agitated then he already was, "You had no right to speak to me in that manner."

"I had, and still have, every right to speak the way I want!" She tracked his movements as he stood and placed the violin in it's case. "I have a constitutional right as an American citizen."

He loomed over her, "Sorry mademoiselle, but this is France! You have none of those silly rights."

"They aren't silly!" She glared at him, "but you're changing the subject. Are you just going to hold my shouting out you forever?"

"Of course not…"

"So why not get over it now?"

"Because you insulted Christine."

She felt like slapping him, that would only get her killed. "I'm sorry. You won't hear anything of that nature again."

His amber eyes searched her face. Even though he was still angry with her, he couldn't help noticing how her eyes squinted a little at the edges when she was mad. For some reason that made his anger falter and he saw some honest concern in her eyes. She had really been worried about whether or not she had ruined their friendship. For once he felt his anger, that often consumed him when provoked, melt just a little. It didn't mean that he was willing to let the matter drop, he still wanted to throttle her. He just needed peace to plan, and he wasn't going to get it with her around. "Fine." He ground out, "Now go to bed."

She froze, her eyes grew wide. Her expression grew blank, "ummm…"

He sighed, "You forgot to save yourself bed, didn't you?"

She paused, "Yeah."

He lifted a brow, "And you think just maybe I might let you sleep in here?"

"well," her face lit with hope, "I hadn't thought of it till now, but please?"

"No."

"Fine. I'm sure Dracula will be more than willing to …."

"You won't go near that fanged menace," He hissed, the possessiveness was back, "or so help me, I will lock you in the torture chamber!"

"So.." She gave him her best set of puppy dog eyes, "Is that a yes?"

He growled in frustration, "Yes."

She smiled, "Thank you!"

He tuned away from her, to get back to his music only to hear the tell tale thump of something new appearing in his time period. He didn't want to know, he told himself over and over again. In spite of his better instincts he turned back around. Tammy was now in her favorite attire of green pajama pants and black tank top, only she was sitting on top of a white metal day bed covered in a lime green leopard spotted comforter. It was resting up against the wall opposite the organ. He eyed it with disdain, she caught his discomfort. She sighed and changed the comforter to red, "I'll move it to the rose room after every one's gone."

"On that note," He was still uncomfortable with her being there, "When will everyone be leaving?"

She was under the covers in a flash, "I can't hear you good night!"  
"Tamara!"

Her blue-green eyes were shut tight, "Don't worry Erik. I'll take care of it."

"How come that just makes me more anxious?" He threw back at her. Too late she was buried under the pillows, holding one to herself tightly, and her could see the rise and fall of her even breathing. "No one falls asleep that fast."

He was greeted with silence. He sighed and picked up his violin, he began playing one of his original pieces. The strains of his mournful violin played into the ears of some suddenly very attentive phangirls who appreciated it to it's full value. And fell asleep with his music serenading them. Needless to say they were all very happy.

* * *

**Ok, all together now. Awwwwwww!** **It's cute when they fight, but so hard to write. He he, I rhymed. So yeah, Just remember cameos in by Monday. Oh and here's a sneak peak of what's to come (a few snippets from my computer):**

"That would be another point we disagree on." She was dusting off her badly battered breeches. He cupped her chin, she froze. Turning her face towards him she straitened, he captured her gaze. "I don't think you have bad luck at all."

She lifted an eyebrow, his gaze dropped to her lips then back to her eyes. He lowered his head to hers. His lips were only a hairs breath away from her when a shadow appeared over head.

"Erik!" She chirped. Philippe froze, cursing silently. He stood and lifted his gaze to the balcony, and met a furious amber gaze.

XxX

He hoped Tammy would forgive him. In truth he hadn't wanted to leave her here alone, but this was one trip he would have to make by himself. He had to meet Christine, without Tammy in tow. Christine was a fragile creature, and it would have pleased Tammy to no end to know that she was scared of her. Besides someone had to keep up the rumors of the opera ghosts, and take care of Ayesha and those other creatures so lovingly given to him.

Erik quickly opened the door and saw another trunk, this one was black and very worn. He addressed the driver, "What is this?"

The driver glanced at him, "it was something the Master insisted you have with you. But he demanded me not to let you open it till on the road."

Erik rolled his eyes, "carry on."

He climbed in, closed the door, and tapped the ceiling. The coach lurched then rolled bumping steadily down the street. He sat in quiet solitude, he thoughts running about a mile a minute. The sun began to rise as they left the outskirts of Paris. The dark interior let inside small slits of light from the closed windows. He was settling in for a long ride, when a sort of scratching came from the trunk.

XxX

Erik glared at her, "What are you doing up there?"

"I like trees." She answered, "I always have had a tendency for climbing them."

He raised a brow at her, "What about your cat syndrome?"

Tammy smiled, "Ah, you see the trees at home where pines, nasty to try and get down from. This is a solid oak, or something like that…it just doesn't have needles. And while yes I still have cat-stuck-in-a-tree-syndrome I didn't climb high enough to cause serious damage."

"In other words?"

"Catch me," clutching her possessions she jumped. Erik didn't have time to think, he just reacted. She landed safely in his arms but her book and CD player went clattering to the ground. He had caught her with one arm underneath her knees and his other arm had instinctively wrapped around the small of her back, her hands griped his shoulders. He was now fully aware of how light his charge was, amazing that such a fiery energetic woman could feel so slight in his arms. It occurred to him that if it really came down it he was much stronger than her, and he had used that strength in the past to his advantage. Yet she still trusted him.

With a sharp intake of breath he set her on her feet, ideas were still whirling in his mind but those could be sorted out later. She smiled up at him, as shook as he was but hid it much better than he, "Nice catch."

**Hope You like your sneak peek, Now go have some turkey!**


	18. I need you're voice!

Reviewers,

I stumbled back on this story (after god knows how many years of hiatus). I feel horrible that I haven't finished the story, but I'm not happy with the way it has been set up. I had a clever plot with twists and a surprise ending but unfortunately the computer I started this with has long since died and I have no way to recover the data. And to be quite frank I couldn't meet the demands of the cameos, it's hard enough writing a convincing story that entertains let alone feeling like you have to do justice to everyone who writes in. Some authors/authoresses have done a fantastic job and though I think I did a fine job they severely slowed down the story.

So I pose this question to you the readers. Should I:

Do a complete overhaul of the story. Starting from the beginning and fleshing out the story so character's are not so OCC, and completely take out the cameos at this point and possibly bring them back at a later time? (This will lead to quicker updates, more advancement in the plot, and having it read more like a novel instead of an online story.)

Revamp the previous chapters and leave the cameos the way they are and work from there? (Slower updates, having to wait for the cameos to be finished before continuing with the story, but having a more novel beginning)

Post an outline of the story and where I had intended it to go? (Think like a summary of each chapter with maybe some fleshed out scenes where I had thought them out)

I personally think A or B would be the best choice, since C is kind of sad. But I don't want to lead you readers on incase life comes crashing in on me again.

So let me know in your reviews and I will work from there.

Cheers!

Miss Black Shadow

P.S. I'm also looking for a Beta reader regardless of what happens.


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